


Of Bedroom Mates and Cold Coffee

by felinesandbeanies



Series: First, a gun shot [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (it's laf), Bisexual, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gay, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pansexual, Pining, Promiscuity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinesandbeanies/pseuds/felinesandbeanies
Summary: “Since when did you start locking your--” John paused, blinking at a boy who was not familiar to him. The boy had inky black eyes to match his raven hair and he was shorter than John by a mere inch. Also, he is undeniably shirtless. “You’re not Laf.” 
 
or
John Laurens falls in love with a guy his friend is sleeping with





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah okay why not, I like this fandom

**Day One**

John Laurens was taking pre-med and he is tired---no, an understatement--- _exhausted_. He has never felt like his bones were so heavy before, further weighed down by the muscles attached to him. He just wanted to sleep but he really doesn’t have the time nor the energy to walk from the library to his apartment at 1AM in the morning. 

 

**To Petit Baguette**  
_I’m coming over_

 

He doesn’t wait for a reply, he just stuffs his phone in his pocket without a second thought. John knows that Lafayette is used to him dropping by his apartment from time to time (since it’s nearer than John’s place by a block), often at ungodly hours or if Lafayette has cooked something better than the usual cafeteria mayhem. John sighs in relief once he gets to Lafayette’s door.

His hand made its way to the door knob and...the door is locked. Lafayette _never_ locked his door. John frowned, gently knocking on the door which was something he never thought he’d do. 

A click. 

“Since when did you start locking your--” John paused, blinking at a boy who was not familiar to him. The boy had inky black eyes to match his raven hair and he was shorter than John by a mere inch. Also, he is undeniably shirtless. “You’re not Laf.” 

“I’m not,” the boy said, giving him a lazy smile. The boy stepped aside to let him in and the boy is half naked. “He is asleep.” 

John enters cautiously, hearing the door shut and locked once he is a few feet in the room. He’s actually really surprised that the room did not reek of sex. The boy is still half naked and John can’t quite grasp it. “Sorry, I didn’t know he had someone over. Am I intruding?” 

“It hardly matters since he is snoring mercilessly,” the boy said, slipping into a baggy red sweater. “And he said that I should let “freckles” in if he should knock at a ‘how you say...ungodly hour?’”

John briefly wonders why the hell the boy talked like that but decides not to dwell on it. “I just needed to crash somewhere, I’m too tired to go home.” 

The boy hummed in comprehension before walking past him to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table that had sheets of paper and wrinkled dog-eared books strewn across it. The brightness of the laptop glared at the boy’s face and, for a moment there, John thought he looked rather attractive. 

“Are you going to use the couch?” John asked dumbly as he practically shoves himself on it, face planted on a pillow. He was sure that the lines on the couch would mark him for hours on end tomorrow, but did he care? Not one bit. It was a _comfy_ couch and that’s what mattered the most.

“Maybe later,” the boy said, tone joking. “Would you like me to turn the lights off?”

John curls into himself. “Mmm no.” 

“Goodnight.” At that point John is too far gone to even say anything coherently so he mumbles a “Goodmm” before he is out like a light. 

 

 

 

John blinks, rays of light hitting him all at once. He sat up, feeling cloth fall from his chest. When did he have the time to even grab a blanket? A fluffy and comfortable blanket that had specks of stars on it was not usually something he’d find himself waking up to. His hand went to his hair, flinching when it came into contact with a frizzy nest. “Good god.” 

He takes a quick look around, bleary eyed and a bit confused. He remembers making it out of the library and then...and then what? Inky black eyes flashed in his mind and he remembers the boy. Where was he? The only thing that proved the boy was there was the laptop, crumpled and uncrumpled papers, and dog-eared books.

“Glad you’re awake, mon ami,” Lafayette said. “I prepared breakfast.” 

“What time is it, Laf?” John asked, standing up to stretch. He let out a satisfied moan when he felt and heard some good cracks.

“8:30AM,” Lafayette replied. He was wearing a pink lacy polka-dotted apron that had ‘princess’ embroidered on, it was apparently a gift from Mulligan. 

John walked towards the dining table, slowly sinking in the chair. “Why am I still so tired?” 

Lafayette snorted. “No one told you to sleep on my couch, Laurens.” 

“It was that or walking home,” John said, rolling his eyes. “And since when did you lock your door?”

“It was---” 

“Laf, your shower is making my head combust,” a new voice said. “If this burns my ass, I will sue you.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “And I thought you were the smartest man to ever exist, _mon petit lion_.” 

John heard a frustrated groan before a door has been shut. “Where’d you get a new boyfriend?”

Lafayette snorted. “How conservative of you, _mon ami_. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s...how you say...a bedroom mate?” 

“Ah,” John hummed. “How’d you find him?” 

“He’s an energetic one, I met him in GOVT-105 a few weeks ago and he seemed to have picked a fight with Aaron Burr,” Lafayette chuckled. He began to take a bite of his omelet, smiling when he decided that it tasted nice. “And he’s both good with his words and his actions.”

John scrunched up his nose. “Spare me the details.”

“We’re just keeping it casual really,” the French man continued. “I have a feeling he’ll fit right in with us.” ‘Us’ being John, Lafayette, and Hercules. 

“Right,” John said, letting himself focus on the food. 

They ate their breakfast quietly from then on since it was far too early for any proper conversation to occur between the two of them. John really did not have to worry about being late for class because his first class of today is still in the afternoon and it’s _Chemistry_ and, oh god, Biology? Yes, fine, but Chemistry? God forbid it, he would rather drown himself in the Yangtze river. 

His focus strays towards Lafayette’s ‘bedroom mate’. John knew that Lafayette was very much in favor of various types of people due to his being a pansexual person who also has extreme interest in physical activities (John doesn’t care much about it, only cares about whether or not they use condoms) and he has only bumped into Lafayette’s bedroom mates maybe once or twice. 

John Laurens has come to realize that Marquis de (has too long of a name for a single man) Lafayette has a type and his type is: a heavily opinionated activist who can jive with his strong personality (and maybe someone who understands his heavy accent) and this one shouldn’t be any different.

“I may have high GPAs but your shower just makes me feels like I don’t deserve to be a fucking Dean’s Lister,” the boy grumbled, sitting down next to him. 

“Oh look at me I’m Alexander Hamilton and I get high grades by sucking up to George Washington,” Lafayette said in a high pitched mocking tone. 

The boy--no, Alexander, rolled his eyes. “I do _not_ sound like that.” 

“So you’re admitting to sucking up to Washington?” John joked. Washington was a current senator who owned the school as well as sometimes filling in debate classes.

“I am really just that smart and charming,” Alexander grinned. He got a better look at Alexander Hamilton and he could see exactly why Lafayette chose him now that he wasn’t that hindered by exhaustion. John realized that Alexander had such passionate eyes, it was as if they were waiting for something to ignite them into a brighter glow. He also smiled vibrantly and unapologetically and the smile was beautiful. Alexander Hamilton almost seemed ethereal. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“John Laurens,” he replied, hand out. 

Alexander took it. “Alexander. Alexander Hamilton.” 

“Alexander,” John says, trying it out. The name felt like honey sliding against his tongue.

Alexander beamed at him and _shit_. “You can call me ‘Alex’ if you would like.” Then, an afterthought. “Or “Zander” or whatever.” 

“I call dibs on petit lion,” Lafayette said. 

“As if anyone else would call dibs on that,” Alexander said, rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time. “I _swear_ Joseph.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Don’t call you what, Gilbert?” 

“ _That_ too.” 

“Okay, Marie.” Lafayette groaned. “At least I have half a mind to even know your name, Roch.” 

John could not help but laugh. “Oh my god.” 

“You find this funny?!” Lafayette exclaimed. “I should have you know, John Laurens of Columbia University pre-med and an advocate of black lives matter and free the turtles, that this is not funny.” 

“Black lives matter?” Alexander questioned, turning to him. John gave a nod. He noted that Alexander’s eyes seemed to have sparked right at that moment. “There’s a protest this weekend. Do you want to come?” 

Lafayette sighed loudly. “And I go ignored.” 

“I’d love to,” John replied. “That means of course I’ll have to finish my papers. Fuck.” 

Alexander sat straight. “Papers?” 

“Oh, here we go.” 

John looked at Lafayette, confused. “What?” 

When Lafayette said ‘energetic’, he really meant _energetic_. Alexander seemed to buzz with enthusiasm, as if he was injected with three pints of energy drinks and coffee, and it somehow felt like it radiated off towards John. The man talked passionately about his double major in political science and economics, the debate team he practically led, the five blogs he runs, and how he is a proud member of the LGBTQ community. He managed to relay all of that in under ten minutes, a somewhat miracle that John did not get a headache. 

“Fucking asshole homophobic prick who stole my green megaphone during Pride...”

“There are other megaphones in the world.”

“You don’t understand, Marquis. It was _green_.” 

John was guiltily checking off items in his ‘ideals’ list. Smart? Yes. Funny? A questionable yes. Is attracted to men? Yes. Opinionated? Yes. Passionate? Yes. And he could go on and on and on. The only thing not his ‘ideals’ was ‘Is he sleeping with my friend? Yes.’ and he doesn’t know how that’ll work but he’ll just have to be silent in the sidelines. 

“Hey, about last night...”

“What about it, _mon petit lion_?” 

“You should tie your hair next time, I think I managed to eat some.” 

“ _Casse Toi._ ”

Lafayette is a good man and John knows this to be true. If he told him that he has been smittened by this boy he met no more than nine hours ago then he would be teased mercilessly but also be given a chance to pursue him. Lafayette was also pretty fucking oblivious and John knows this to be another truth so if he wanted Alexander, he needed to use words. How awkward would that be?

John wasn’t that much in love with Alexander, not yet at least. He decides to shrug his feelings off, knowing that his crushes come and go as they please and he’s never fully fallen for someone before. Alexander was just another man to look at and he’s satisfied with that. 

“John, your coffee's getting cold,” Alexander pointed out, looking a bit too concerned about the cup of coffee. 

Lafayette snorted. “He likes cold coffee.” 

“I am not having this discussion again,” John sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Alexander eyed him cautiously. “You...I don’t trust men like you.” 

John almost choked on his drink when he snorted out a laugh. “Men like me? Charmingly freckled and drools in my sleep.” 

“Yes” Alexander said, tilting his chin up. “Men exactly like you.”

 

 

**One week**

 

**From: A.Ham**

_Can you believe what Burr just said to me?_

 

**To: A.Ham**

_Burr is....?_

 

**From: A.Ham**

_My nemesis_

 

**To: A.Ham**  
_You have a nemesis?_

 

**From: A.Ham**  
_Yes and he just said that in a situation of catcalling both are at fault. Excuse me? What the hell? He always plays this neutrality card or if he sees the other side winning then he sides with them! Aaron Burr does not have principles. NONE._

 

**To: A.Ham**  
_Do you want me to make you some coffee?_

 

**From: A.Ham**  
_Not cold?_

 

**To: A.Ham**  
_Yeh_

 

**From: A.Ham**  
_A man after my heart. I’ll be there in 5. <3 _

 

**From: A.Ham**  
_Actually, nevermind, I’m here_

 

 

 

**Two Weeks Later**

 

All John could say about the weekend protest was that it went well. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins was enough to get him through the rest of the week. True, he was exhausted because he wanted to get everything done before the protest but the energy that the crowd gave off made him feel so much more alive.

He was there with Lafayette, Hercules, and Alexander (who knew a shit ton of people in the crowd). It was the first time Hercules has ever met Alexander and it seems like he was already charmed by him since they were both the loudest ones in their little group. What John loved was that they were equally passionate about the protest and really he could not ask for anything better than this. 

Alexander Hamilton was something else. He was a man equipped with knowledge, determination, passion, and a big red megaphone. If there was a table in the middle of the protest he was sure Alexander would be up on it shouting and proclaiming what he believed in and this lack of brevity is something John came to admire about him. 

John bumped into Alexander a few times, usually at Lafayette’s apartment or the cafeteria. He would always be lounging around with a book or his laptop, he’d mention the coffee but it was practically part of his outfit now. John has noticed that most of the things that he hears from Alexander are his bold proclamations and the clickity clackity of his keyboard, both of which he doesn’t mind.

It seems like he will be a more stable member of their little group. He fit right in along with Lafayette’s french and Hercules’ occasional mischief. John had appreciated his presence too, it was somewhat like a missing piece their group never could quite figure out. It didn’t seem to be weird despite the fact that Alexander is Lafayette’s ‘casual bedroom mate’.

“Fuck fast fashion,” Alexander said, entering the room with metaphorical lightning crackling around him. 

Hercules looked up, seemed to be interested. “You’ve watched the documentary?” 

“Yes,” the boy replied. “Eliza and I were watching Mulan and then she suggested watching that. What makes people think that they could make third world country citizens work under dangerous situations under low income and for what? A five dollar shirt from Forever 21? I am disgusted with how this world works.” 

“You know how hard it is to make a shirt in the heat with god awful machinery and not enough food? Very fucking hard,” Hercules added. “They are even separated from their families just so could they make money sufficient enough for only half of a person.” 

John smiled into his cup as he watched their exchange. This is how their day usually rolls out. “I take it you had a good day?” 

“Very much so,” Alexander said. He grabbed John’s cup and took a sip, nose scrunching when it was cold coffee but he did not vocalize any of the complaints he might have had.

Hercules snorted. “I’m surprised someone actually watched that and didn’t say the god awful ‘well someone has to make our clothes’ line. Where is their sense of humanity?” 

John looked taken aback. “People actually think like that? Like actual people with a heart?” 

“He has a heart,” Hercules said, munching on his beef jerky. John wondered why Hercules liked beef jerky so much, he almost lost his teeth due to a beef jerky incident but that is another story for another time. “He’s vegan.” 

Alexander stared at him blankly then let his shoulders sag. “Ugh _people_.”

“At the rate we’re going at I’m sure Alexander would have a few murders until I obtain residency,” John joked. 

“You jest but you’re scared it might be true,” Alexander quipped.

John shrugged. “True or not, you better tell all your future nemeses, god knows you’re the only one who has those, to look for a Dr. John Laurens while they are at the brink of bleeding to death.” 

“No,” Alexander frowned. “You will not help any nemesis of mine.” 

“A job is a job, Hamilton,” John argued, smirking. “Being biased won’t put food on the table.” 

“I’ll even make the pretty hospital gowns for them,” Hercules added. 

Alexander glared and pointed an accusing finger at both of them. “This friendship is a breath away from falling apart.” They laughed at that, knowing that it was the third time that week Alexander has jokingly questioned their ‘alliance’ or, rather, friendship. 

At that moment, Lafayette literally waltzed in the room, eyes sparkling and if that was not just the gayest thing John has witness it would have been too soon. “I just met the most beautiful woman.” 

“You wound me,” Alexander deadpanned. 

Lafayette gave him a ‘the fuck?’ look before he resumed being sparkly. “Her name is Margarita. Oh, that name.” 

Alexander laughed, a laugh so loud it actually made Hercules flinch. “You mean Peggy? Peggy Schuyler?” 

“You know her?” Lafayette asked. 

“I dated her sister at one point,” Alexander shrugged. “What a small world.” 

“The Schuylers? Wow, Alex.” Hercules whistled. “Which one?” 

“Eliza,” Alexander replied. “And it was just a flimsy two month thing.”

“Because?” John pressed, not really sure why he is inquiring. 

Alexander pursed his lips, calculating his next response. “We decided that we were better off as best friends.” 

Somehow there was something amiss, the usual fast paced Alexander mulling over his words as if to savor its taste. It was unlike him. Hercules and Lafayette didn’t seem to notice, instead they howled about how if Alexander had a chance with upclass ladies then they surely had a chance too. 

“I don’t think I have a chance with high class ladies,” John shrugged. 

Alexander gave him a confused look. “Why not? You are quite charming.” 

John blatantly ignored the phrase ‘you are quite charming’ roll around his head and instead focused on the fact that he has not come out to Alexander yet. It’s been two weeks and he still hasn’t told Alexander, he figured that the boy already knew but it seems he was mistaken. This is what he gets for jumping to conclusions. 

“I’m gay,” John offered. 

Alexander beamed, John is blinded, then he looked offended. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t figure that one out.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know up until a month of knowing him,” Hercules chimed in. “And up until then I’ve been setting him up with Martha.” 

“Martha?” Alexander inquired. 

John gave him a lazy smile. “Sweet girl, not my type.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Lafayette said in a tone of faux annoyance. “She is the funniest and most sarcastic little thing. She wore a yellow dress today and it made her eyes twinkle and oh my _god_ I can’t.” 

“I don’t get it,” Hercules grunted. “Do you want to date her or adopt her?” 

Lafayette gave him a pointed glare. “ _Casse-toi_ , Mulligan.--” John snorted, only ever fluent in French when it comes to swear words. “Can’t I admire a beautiful piece of art when it calls for admiration?” 

“I’m just amused Gilbert didn’t freak her out what with him stammering around people he finds attractive,” Alexander smirked. 

“God.” Lafayette groaned. John wasn’t quite sure if it was because he was called ‘Gilbert’, Alexander just outed his stammering or a little bit of both. “That was _one_ time and it was because _you_ were being pissy and intimidating?” 

“Intimidating?” John barked out a laugh. “Have you seen how short he is?” 

Before Alexander could argue, Hercules already cut him off. “He’s our little cinnamon roll.” 

Alexander rolled his eyes. “This friendship will end soon--no don’t give me that look, Joseph--I swear to all of you.” 

John smiled, amused. He briefly wonders how this is a life he’s actually living. His brown eyes gazed at Alexander attempting to give Lafayette a noogie while Hercules laughed from the couch.

* * *

**Four Weeks**

John scooted into his seat, apologizing profusely to the people he has managed to step on. This place should really invest on more space, they needed it. Lafayette was already secretly munching on Laffy Taffy, eyeing the area to see if there was anyone there to call him out; He was never one to follow the ‘no food, no drinks’ policy.

“Hey, wanna hear the Laffy Taffy joke?” 

“Hit me, Laf.” 

“What do you call a cow with a twitch?”

“What?”

“Beef Jerky.” A snort. 

“Well that didn’t make me Laffy.” 

“Maybe cause life is Taffy. You get it? As in like life is toug--”

_”I get it”_

They were currently at a debate event where Alexander would participate in. Alexander had told them that the topic of debate was legalization of prostitution in the country and Alexander’s house was for it. Aaron Burr and Alexander were debating over it during one of their very few shared classes and it was never really a debate since all Burr said was “Why are you so passionate about this?” mixed with “Alexander, quiet down.” 

Alexander continued to impress him, continued to seemingly capture and twirl on his heart strings. He’s been ignoring his own emotions lately, opting to drown himself in school work with Alexander who sat beside him in the library. Okay maybe it wasn’t exactly helpful and can you blame him if Alexander is---

 

\--sat on stage looking so beautiful in a tux and his hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail. He felt his jaw drop a bit. He knew Alexander Hamilton was an attractive man, but this? Oh, look at those _eyes_. Alexander locked eyes with him and smiled and _oh my god_. John smiled back, confused as to what this was. 

The debate started. 

“This house believes that prostitution should not be legalized...”

The first one up there was a man who talked about religion and John already knows that the other team will lose. He only half listens to his nearly ludicrous speech as he watches Alexander furiously jot down notes to argue with the other house’s claims. His teammates, both girls, seemed to work just as hard as him, quietly talking amongst themselves in silent rage. 

“They’re going to lose,” Lafayette said quietly. “The religion card isn’t exactly a winning card.” 

John nodded in agreement. “If they were in Texas or South Carolina then maybe they’d win but this isn’t the right place to even mention that.” 

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me that the Schuyler sisters are his teammates,” Lafayette said in astonishment. “The girl beside him is Eliza and then Angelica.”

“Angelica and Eliza,” John said, then added an afterthought. “Where’s the one you liked?” 

Lafayette seemed to perk up, he looked around him in a daze. “Somewhere....”

Alexander and Eliza seemed to go great together and it made John feel a bit weird. He watched Alexander gaze at Eliza as she delivered their introduction speech, his eyes alight with pride and agreement. Would Alexander look at him like that? Ever? At all?

_John, no._

He lets himself get absorbed into the debate until it was Alexander’s turn to deliver their conclusion. Alexander was bouncing with excitement as he talked, a ball of energy was the best way to describe him and if John thought he couldn’t be more smittened then he was wrong.

“In addition and conclusion to what my house is trying to project...”

Alexander stood on the podium, spotlight hitting him just right. He talked passionately, accent slightly weaving into some of the words he said. He radiated confidence and assurance, every word coming out of him was calculated and precise but quick cutting. John swallowed and watched as Alexander slowly raked his gaze through the audience until he captured his.

John held his breath as he watched Alexander’s eyes spark with something he couldn’t quite figure out; Everything seemed so perfect; Alexander’s voice ringing in his ears, his aura radiating and putting him in a trance, his gaze and focus completely on him, his whole form outlined by the spotlight and Alexander--just _Alexander. Alexander. Alexander_. 

“...that concludes everything this house has to say on the legalization of prostitution.” A loud applause is followed by this.

And John Laurens, under the painful gaze of Alexander Hamilton’s god damn beautifully painted eyes, realized that he is completely and utterly enamored.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: 
> 
> SO MUCH FUCKING FLUFF

**One Month and a half**

The moment John realized that he liked Alexander, it changed him. He began to overthink everything that Alexander did and he even bought some kind of fifty dollar shampoo to care for and maintain his hair (“Your hair so fun to play with” “Is that so?” “Mmm” “Alexander, you’re drunk). 

John decided to live with the fact that Alexander only saw him as a very close friend and that John is desperate enough to take what is given to him which included, but not limited to, the gentle tug when Alexander wants to lead him somewhere, the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts, their nights together at the library, and sometimes a few casual cuddles. 

Okay maybe everything, so far, has been purely mixed signals but John is greedy and he will appreciate everything that makes his heart jump alive (even if it kills him).

Today, Alexander was snuggled into John’s side with a spongebob printed blanket wrapped around them. They were watching a documentary about the 9/11 incident just for fun and because Alexander wanted to watch it for an essay he was writing to commemorate those who suffered during the grievous incident and he planned to post the essay on the fortnight but it’s Alexander so of course he wanted to have a head start. 

“You always call me Alexander,” Alexander said, jolting John out of his haze. 

John looked down at him, confused. “That’s your name.” 

“Well yeah but...” Alexander trailed off. “You call Gilbert ‘Laf’ or ‘Lafayette baguette’, you call Hercules ‘Herc’, and then you call me Alexander. I mean sometimes you call me ‘Alex’ but often times ‘Alexander’.”

“Well yeah,” John said, blushing. “Does it bother you?” 

“Not if you tell me why,” Alexander said, sounding like a mischievous child. 

John blushed harder. “It’s because I like your name.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I like your name, Alexander,” John repeated. “I really like saying it.” 

“It’s such a common name,” Alexander argued, 

_So is ‘John’_. “It’s your name and I like your name,” _And I like you_. John doesn’t add the first and last part. 

Alexander is quiet for a moment. “I like ‘John’ too.” 

And if John didn’t know the context of this conversation he would have jumped to conclusions but knowing the context did not make him any less flustered anyway so what was the point. He chokes out a “thanks” before he forces himself to regain focus on the documentary. Well maybe he can’t quite concentrate because Alexander fucking Hamilton decided to loosely tangle their fingers together and, by the grace of god, John manages to not tighten the grip.

 

_Casual_

 

That is the only word floating around his head to make him calm down. They once had a light conversation about Alexander’s libido and it was brought up because of how fast he was to take up on Lafayette’s, oh so wonderfully promiscuous Lafayette, offer. 

_

  
“Well,” Alexander trailed off. “Lafayette’s a smart man.”

“Is that right?” John mused. “Is that what enticed you?” 

“He’s a beautiful man and that’s all I can say.” 

“And what of the girl you flirted with last week?”

“Are you keeping track?”

A blush. “Sure.”

“I like keeping things casual and loose.” 

“Do commitments scare you?”

“To be honest? Yeah.” 

“Oh.”

“Just...people aren’t gentle.” 

“So nothing serious?” 

“Never anything serious.”

 

_

 

He wasn’t very much in love with Alexander when that conversation happened but now that he was in love as fuck, it stung. He wanted to be an exception to his fears, someone who Alexander would ignore his fears for. It’s wishful thinking of course. The man who is outstandingly strong and independent falling in love with him? 

“You should really clean your apartment,” Alexander mumbled. “The clutter is making it smaller.”

John snorted. “This is _your_ mess. Do I read about--” He looks at the title of the book by his foot. “--Ancient Economics in my spare time? _No_.” 

“You really should,” Alexander said. 

“Oh my god,” John groaned, rolling his eyes. “That is not the point.” 

Alexander looked up with eyes wide and lower lip jutted out. John should just really look away and not have the ingrained in the forefront of his mind. “But I like to be with you and leaving my things here means that I have a reason to see you.” 

John stared, then rolled his eyes. He hopes that his freckles hides his blush, cursing them because that was the only thing they were good for. “Stop buying books you don’t need.” 

Alexander gasped, putting his free hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I need them all.” 

“You and your dramatics,” John chuckled. “Whatever just make sure to stack them in a neat pile somewhere.”

Alexander gave him a fond look. “We’re so domestic.” 

“And I assume that you enjoy this,” John said. 

“I am not saying that we should venture in mutual domesticity but...” Alexander’s eyebrows knitted together as if the next thing he was going to say caught _him_ off guard. His next words are slow and calculated, uncharacteristically so. “I do kind of...enjoy this? I mean I have never had close friends like you before and I enjoy it.” 

_Right, close friend_ , John thought as he glanced at their intertwined fingers. “Same.” 

“I am sorry though,” Alexander said, frowning. “I don’t open up as much and I do try but I...” 

John looked at him incredulously. “It’s fine, Alexander. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not that sort of person.” 

It was hard to explain but Alexander just gave him this look and Alexander gives him a _lot_ of looks but this one was different. It had so many emotions but mostly there is confusion, it was like something triggered fight or flight response. “Thank you.”

_For what?_ He doesn’t say, he simply nods and leans back to watch the documentary again. “I’m surprised you haven’t had the urge to write ever since we started this documentary.” 

Alexander shrugged. “Is it wrong?”

“It’s surprising,” John corrected. 

Alexander seemed to hum in agreement whilst he snuggled closer to John as if it was possible to go any closer. John smiled, relishing the feeling of Alexander’s thumb stroking his knuckles as if he was gently strumming guitar strings. “How can I say no to this?” 

“Easy. You say no to this like how you say no everytime I try to make you eat.” 

Alexander scowled. “That was a cute moment and you went and destroyed it and the food you give me is disgusting.” 

“Fruits are disgusting?” 

“They’re so _healthy_.” 

“Alexander Hamilton, you have to eat something that isn’t your disgustingly high in sugar mini donuts or the god forsaken coffee you insist is organic.” 

_“Oui, maman.”_

“Did you just ‘yes, mom’ me in French?” 

 

 

**Two Months**

There was an unforgiving storm that made John’s windows shiver to life. He loved storms, absolutely adored them; It was his lullaby--well, supposed to be. He’s been kept awake by the sole thing he deemed as his lullaby. _Traitor_. It’s not like he had a morning class the next day, but he’d appreciate the rest since he’s been working like a beast lately. Yeah, he deserves the sleep.

He grunted, rolling over to grab his phone when he heard it vibrate.

**From: A.Ham**  
 _My dearest, Laurens._

 

**To: A.Ham**  
 _It’s 2:30 AM, Alexander_

 

**From: A.Ham**  
 _There’s a storm. I can’t sleep_

 

**To: A.Ham**   
_Do you want me to call?_

 

**From: A.Ham**   
_It’s quite alright, I think I’ll just sleep._

**To: A.Ham**  
 _I’m calling_

 

“Hi.” 

“Hi, John.” 

“How are you?” 

“Just...thinking.” 

“That’s dangerous.”

A laugh. “Tell me anything.” 

“You know what? I do not understand why people think that throwing their trash in the sea doesn’t affect our ecosystem. They think that turtles are stupid for mistaking plastic for jellyfish when, in reality, if put side by side they look just about the same. When you’re hungry you don’t really think, you know? You just grab whatever’s there.”

A hum of agreement. 

“Also, I was---maybe I should just sing to you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mmkay.” 

“So this is love mmmm so this is love so this is what makes life divine. I’m all aglow mmmm and now I know, the key to all heaven is mine. My heart has wings mmmm and I can fly, I’ll touch every star in the sky. So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of mmmm so this is love.” 

And it’s not like John Laurens is trying to _admit_ anything here, but if that’s how Alexander Hamilton perceives it then it wouldn’t be unwelcome. It was merely the first song that popped into his mind and it’s what usually put his younger siblings to sleep, really the song was a gift from god because children are wild.

“You have a nice voice.” Alexander’s voice was practically a whisper. “Another? A whole song.” 

“That _was_ a whole song.” 

“My dearest.” That pet name does things to John, but he will never admit that. He tries to think of a song that will do well as a lullaby for the restless man. Eventually, he thinks of one but it’s not his fault that it’s another gushy love song. Again, he’s not trying to admit anything but if the other man perceives it differently (and positively) then it won’t be unwelcome.

“I love you too much to live without you loving me back...” There was audible shuffling on the other line which probably means that Alexander is trying to get comfortable. John focused on Alexander’s feathery breathing, feeling as if they were side by side and that nothing mattered except for this moment. The storm was still harsh but it seems like Alexander was doing well to ignore it which made John’s worrying dissipate. “There’s love above love and it’s ours if you love me as much.” 

Light snores were his applause. 

 

 

In the morning, he woke up to his phone almost dying but the call was still on. He shuffled to plug it in his charger. “Good morning, Alexander,” he said thoughtlessly. 

“Good morning.” 

 

**Two and a half months**

 

“Did you hear?” Mulligan said from the other side of Lafayette’s apartment. John was busy tying and taming Lafayette’s hair and Alexander was just watching them from the sidelines. 

“Hear wha--fucking, Laurens, please be _gentle_ \--hear what?” Lafayette asked. 

“There’s a new club opening,” Mulligan smirked. “Let’s go.” 

Alexander seemed to perk up. “Shit, yes. I’ve needed a drink since John Adams told me not to debate with him even if his statements are ignorant and downright wrong.” 

Mulligan snorted. “John Adams...the professor?”

“Leave it to Alexander Hamilton to make a nemesis out of his professor,” Lafayette said, unamused. 

“John Adams _is_ pretty stupid,” John said, shooting Alexander a fond smile and a wink. He mentally kicks himself for that wink but doesn’t let it show. “I mean have you seen his haircut?” 

“John, you’re so gay,” Lafayette deadpanned, raising a mirror to look at himself in the mirror, then shook his head. “You’re gay but you really can’t tie my hair for shit.” 

“Listen, Gilbert,” John said, ignoring Lafayette’s scowl at the use of his other name. “Your hair is a lion’s mane and whoever takes care of it is a patient and kind soul. I’m _sweating_ from just tying your hair.” 

Mulligan laughed. “He actually taught himself how to maintain his hair because hair stylists hated him.”

“Wow, Marie, you’re so high maintenance,” Alexander teased. 

“Let’s just go to the damned club,” Lafayette grumbled. “Friday night.” 

Mulligan hummed in agreement then, as an afterthought, added. “Heard the Schuylers would be there.” 

John ignores how a rather big smile found its way to Alexander’s lips. “Is that right?” 

Lafayette sat up straighter. “ _Mon amie_ , Margarita, will be there.” 

John tries to bite back his bitterness because what’s so great about the Schuylers anyway? The only thing he’s heard about them was that they were all activists who studied in Columbia University and that Angelica and Peggy were political science majors and Eliza was a double major in journalism and mass communication. Okay, maybe they _were_ great. 

He frowned when he realized that he was _jealous_ and since when did this jealousy thing happen? He had no ownership over Alexander nor did he plan to ever keep him locked up. And since when was he the jealous type? To be fair, he never had a proper boyfriend, but _still_.

“I’ll introduce you to them,” Alexander said. “They’re like the guardian angels of activists.” 

It took John a couple of minutes to realize that he was referring to him. “That would be nice. It’s time to finally see what the talk is all about.” 

Hercules scrunched up his nose. “That is like a line from ages ago. Jesus, Laurens, have some modernization.”

John huffed out a small laugh. “Fuck off, Herc.” 

 

 

 

John realized, a bit too late, that he did not like loud bassy music mixed in with horny teenagers grinding on each other like there was no tomorrow. He can hardly hear himself think and maybe that’s the point because then he can detach from himself and god help him if he can’t get his focus off of Alexander’s physique under that shirt he borrowed from Lafayette. 

“John Laurens,” Alexander called, grabbing his hand and pulling him close as if it was really necessary. “This is Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy.”

John smiled, albeit too forced. “Hello, I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

He doesn’t let his smile slip even though he sees Eliza eyeing their linked hands, then Alexander, and then him. She looked rather surprised, but it quickly melted into a genuine smile. “John Laurens, Alex talks about you all the fucking time.”

John Laurens began to think that Elizabeth Schuyler was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he has ever met and that she had the most melt-in-your-boots worthy voice, he found this rather unfair. This just puts a speed bump to whatever chance he had with Alexander and with this shining pixie like woman in front of them, his chances were diminished to a mere zero. 

“All the time,” Angelica said, emphasizing every word. 

John gave Alexander a pointed look. “All good things I hope, Alexander.”

“I promise,” Alexander grinned, squeezing his hand softly. He lets go of his hand, opting to wrap his arm around John’s shoulders instead; This action gets another look from Eliza. “Besides, you’re amazing.” 

John scoffed, trying to stop himself from smiling. “Did the the arrogant Alexander Hamilton just compliment me? How flattering”

Peggy groaned. “When will you introduce us to boys you _aren’t_ sleeping with?” 

“I’m not sleeping with him.”

“He’s not sleeping with me.” 

“--or dating.” 

“We’re not dating.” 

Peggy waved her hand dismissively. “Denial.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Do take care of Alex for me, he’s a nightmare upon himself.” 

John laughed. “I thought it was just me thinking that.” 

“We literally had to sing him a song just so he could join us on a trip,” Angelica said, rolling her eyes. “It’s broadway and it’s a bit of a rap and...it’s _complicated_.”

Alexander blushed and John thought that it was quite a sight to behold. “That was _one_ time.” 

“You’re impossible, Alexander,” John said, snorting. 

Peggy cocked her head to the side. “Do you always call him Alexander? Isn’t that mouthful? We just call him Alex.” 

Like hell he’ll admit to them what he admitted to Alex. “What would you prefer I call him?” 

“Baby girl,” Peggy teased, waggling her eyebrows. “Call him ‘baby girl’ or you know just ‘Alex’ is fine...if you’re boring.” 

Eliza laughed (John thought that it was also unfair how she had such a cute laugh) while Angelica rolled her eyes and elbowed her sister. “She’s into gay stuff so don’t mind her.”

“Baby girl,” John said, trying it out as he looked at Alexander. He smiled a bit at Alexander’s flustered reaction. “I kind of like it.” 

Peggy squealed, pushing and pulling on Eliza’s sleeve. “My fucking _heart_.” 

“I have to admit, there is something weird about your ex-boyfriend being called ‘baby girl’,” Eliza joked. 

Alexander actually laughed at that, couldn’t quite help himself. “Oh god fuck, Eliza. I’m not even sorry.” 

“Baby girl, we should get back to our friends,” John said, laughing a bit. They spotted Mulligan looking exasperated as Lafayette seemed to use his arms so he could twirl around in some sort of one sided dance. It was ridiculous how fast he got drunk, but then again Lafayette loved to act drunk so they never really knew the difference.

“Oh--oh I...” Alexander stuttered. 

“Alex,” Eliza said. “Can I talk to you for a minute.” 

Alexander looked at Eliza then John. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.” 

“Alright, Alex.” John tries not to let it hurt that much and he tries not to read into Alexander’s change of expression. He pulls away from Alexander then headed towards Lafayette and Mulligan. Somehow, by some kind of divine intervention, Mulligan has managed to calm down a very energetic Lafayette. “How’d you do that? Magic trick?” 

Mulligan snorted. “More like bribed him by telling him I’d make him onesie with the flag of France on it.”

“Laurens, it’s time to take a shot,” Lafayette giggled, passing him a sketchy looking liquid that would surely hit him harder than he’d expect it to.

“I’m good.” He slid inside the empty side of the booth, releasing a sigh. His eyes lingered towards Eliza and Alexander--bad choice. Angelica and Peggy seemed to have left the two of them alone. _Traitors_. Alexander held Eliza’s right hand gently with his left and yes perhaps that’s the only physical contact they were doing (at the moment) but it still bothered him. Eliza seemed to have said something, earning a blush from Alexander and....“Jesus. Give me the damn shot.” 

“Now we’re talking!” Lafayette exclaimed, managing to slur his words. “Okay we have three lined up just for you.”

That line usually meant ‘Mulligan isn’t allowing me to drink until I’ve sobered up enough to talk with my inside voice’ but John didn’t care. He, with a generous and loving heart, drank all three shots without ever flinching. “Fuck it.” 

“Another!” Lafayette urged. 

Eliza is holding both of his hands, head thrown back in laughter.

Another. 

Alexander looked at her as if she said something that largely mattered to him, his eyes were gleaming; It was a look he’d never seen before. He wants Alexander to look at him like that.

Another. 

Eliza had leaned in for a hug, now looking rather sympathetic. John wondered how warm Alexander must have felt. He wanted to hold him, make it known that Alexander was his but they were not together--never will be together.

Another. 

Alexander had pulled away from the hug, not letting it linger as much. He smiled at her, waggling his eyebrows as he looked at her up and down. The action made Eliza fan herself, rolling her eyes in faux annoyance. 

“Hey, Laurens,” Mulligan said, leaning closer. “That guy has been eyeing you.” 

John looked at where Mulligan was pointing and, indeed, there was guy that was staring at him. He had jet black hair that seemed to be in a wavy disarray but it worked for him, a gentle baby faced expression, and a soft smile. The stranger noticed him looking, then winked. John looked back at Mulligan and scowled. “Not interested.” 

Lafayette snorted. “Come on, Jonathan--”

“Not my name.” The French man ignored him.

“You are single and, how you say, high and dry,” Lafayette continued. John is not sure if Lafayette actually knew what ‘high and dry’ meant. “Give it a chance.”

Alexander was with Eliza and so it seemed only fair to him that he might as well try and enjoy the night. “ _Fine._ ” 

Hercules hollered while he tried to keep Lafayette from standing on the table. He sauntered over to the man who broke into a smile that could quite possibly melt John’s heart if it only had the space for him. “Hi.” 

“Hey,” John nodded, he then felt his eyebrows knit together. “Have we...met?” 

“Not quite, but I do see you around Columbia University,” the man smiled. “And I also saw you at Pride before, very loud and flamboyant.” 

“At least it left a lasting impression on you,” John flirted, leaning on the bar. “You study at Columbia?” 

The man nodded, copying John’s position of comfort. “I’m taking legal management with a minor in economics.”

_Kind of like Alex_. “I’m taking up pre-med. I’m surprised we have time to be here.” 

The man eyed him. “I think it’s worth it.” 

“A natural flatterer,” John laughed.

“Would you like a drink?” The man asked. 

“Sure, but in exchange for a name,” John smirked. 

The man ordered a Jack Daniel’s on ice and John mentally scowled because he wanted something that could knock him out. “My name is Philip Jeremiah Schuyler but call me Remi”

_Of fucking course it is._ “I’m John Laurens but you can call me John or Laurens.” 

Remi’s nose crinkled when he smiled and John thought that that was how Alexander smiled too and _shit_. “Okay then, John or Laurens.” 

John snorted, rolling his eyes. “What a dad joke.” 

“I can be funny, John Laurens,” Remi said, defensively. He offered the drink to John as soon as it arrived beside them. “Just...give me time.”

John laughed, almost spilling his drink. “Whatever you say, but I’m not that easily convinced.” 

“I swear,” Remi pouted. “Well at least my sisters think so.”

John rolled his eyes. “Familial bias!”

Remi puffed out his chest. “It’s familial _support_.” 

“What brings you here?” 

“Drunkard sisters. You?”

“Drunkard friends.” 

A snort. “What a nice twist of fate.”

“Isn’t it? I could be at the turtle exhibit just downtown, but of course not.” 

“Have you heard about the Great Barrier Reef?”

“Yeah, it’s under extreme stress.” 

“Oh, yeah? I thought it was dead, but yeah same.” 

“What do you mean same?” John laughed.

“I am also under extreme stress.”

“Oh god,” John groaned, still smiling. He’s surprised at how easy the conversation was. “Anyway, I--” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” Remi smirked. “But I believe your friend is trying to reach you, quite literally.” 

John looked at him, confused, then turned around to see Alexander fighting to walk towards him with as much control over his body as he can (not a lot). “Oh my god. I’m sorry, Remi, but I think I have to take care of this idiot.” 

“No worries,” Remi replied. John put his drink down and immediately went towards Alexander, looping an arm around his waist to support him; He winced when he was hit by the smell of alcohol. 

“Jesus. Alex...baby girl...Alexander, are you okay?” John asked, he looked at the booth where Lafayette and Mulligan were supposed to be but they were gone. “How many did you drink? Where are our friends?” 

Alexander looked at him as if he wasn’t sure who John was. “Can we get Mcdonalds?” 

John barked out a laugh, he really could kiss this guy. “Of course, Alex. There’s a Mcdonalds right next to this place.”

They stumbled out the bar, more like Alexander stumbled as he pulled John with him. John realized that he should start working out again because he feels like he ran a marathon today and he’s just been half carrying Alexander for a mere 10 minutes. 

“I like it,” Alexander slurred. 

“You like what?” John asked, unsure. 

Alexander stared at him stupidly. “Nothing. I kind of want fries? And do they sell beer at Mcdonalds?” 

“Right,” John chuckled. “And no they don’t sell beer.” 

“Fuck. They should start selling them and call it ‘Mcbeer’ and just sometimes kinda mix it in their burgers,” Alexander slurred. “Oh my god can you imagine? A Mcbeerger.” 

John couldn’t help but laugh at the pun, he almost topples over Alexander with how hard he laughed. “Oh my god I adore you, Hamilton.” 

They managed to make their way to Mcdonalds without any injuries. John had sat Alexander down near the window and he’s never been so nervous in a Mcdonalds before but when you’re at Mcdonalds at 1AM with a drunk man you just so happen to like and that man may or may not impulsively stand on the table just to announce his political standing then you’re bound to be nervous. 

“Hey, you know what?” Alexander said when John sat down, a tray of fries, nuggets, and small cups of water in his hands. 

“I’m scared to ask,” John said, pushing the fries towards Alexander. “But what?” 

“I think you’re really beautiful,” Alexander said, then his eyes widened. “I mean not beautiful--just you’re really...uh I don’t have a word for people like you. I--ugh--alluring? Charming? They all seem like such an understatement. I could write an essay about you.” 

John really almost choked on a nugget. He suddenly wished that Mcbeer was a thing. “Alex, you’re drunk.” Alexander frowned, seemingly offended. John could tell that he was offended because his shoulders sagged and that hardly ever happened. “But thank you...for the compliment. I’ve never been complimented like that before.”

Alexander stared at him dubiously. “That was hardly a compliment, John--” the ‘n’ had been dragged out and he almost stumbled on the word ‘compliment’. “--you deserve so much more than that.” 

“Baby girl,” John said experimentally, smiling when he saw the other man purse his lips and puff out his cheeks. “Really. Thank you. It may be a drunk compliment but it’s still a compliment.” 

“Freckles,” Alexander blurted. 

“What?” 

“I want to count them.” 

John snorted. “More or less ten. Anyway, eat your french fries before they get soggy.” 

“I like soggy fries,” Alexander pouted.

_Cute._ “Gross.” 

Alexander gave him an indignant look. “Well--well _you_ like cold coffee.” 

“Oh, you got me,” John said, holding his hands up. “I’m defeated.” 

 

And if Alexander’s giggle made his heart flutter, he had deniability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've managed to drop vague hints for my (not sure if it's happening) mirror fic. Thanks for the support you've show me so far, it means a lot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japan is beautiful
> 
> WARNING: some fluff, bit of bumpy bumps

John woke up at an unfamiliar place and why was the sun such a bitch? He palmed the space on the side for his phone, only to find out that it was 9AM in the morning and the sun is still such a bitch. He tries to recall what had happened. The Schuyler sisters, the Eliza and Alexander, the Remi Schuyler, the Mcdonalds, and the inevitable ‘stay over at my place’ because you can’t do shit’. 

 

_Shit._

 

He was in Alexander’s boarding house.

 

He was in Alexander’s room.

 

He was on Alexander’s bed. 

 

God damn it, Alexander is lying beside him--half on top of him.

 

John slowly turned his head to the side and he held his breath. Alexander looked so god damn beautiful and he was so sure that no human alive could ever sleep so beautifully. The light of the morning sun had been caught on Alexander’s eyelashes, shadows drooping down his cheeks in ardent proximity. Oh god, John Laurens had it bad.

 

John didn’t want to disturb Alexander so he didn’t dare move (it’s totally not because he liked the way Alexander’s arm is wrapped around his waist, oh no). He could really just slowly slide out of his grip, but then again eyeing the room from that spot on the bed was also nice. Alexander got a solo room, much to John’s pleasure. He could hear light footsteps and figured that it was probably one of the younger ones.

 

The bookshelf in the corner of Alexander’s bedroom is overflowing with books, some didn’t quite make the cut and were, instead, in a neat pile on the floor. The desk near the window had mountains of papers, some crumpled and some were not. John noted that he should give Alexander a quill and a journal for Christmas, an out of the blue thought yet still kind of useful. There was a green sweater on the floor and he realized that that was the sweater he’s been looking for for months, but continued to remain blind to it because the idea of Alexander wearing his clothes is simply to die for. 

 

“When did this become my life?” John asked, lying in bed with the man he liked who was platonically cuddling with him. 

 

“Joh.” It was really the only thing Alexander had the energy to say, a half-assed ‘John’. John lightly ruffled Alexander’s hair, leaning in to give him a forehead kiss out of impulse. Alexander reacted nicely by snuggling into him more and god if that wasn’t the most adorable thing John has ever witnessed then it would be too soon. This domesticity, however, is quite cringe worthy. 

 

“Alexander, how are you feeling?” John asked, voice soft and gentle. 

 

Alexander hummed. “I want to die.” 

 

John laughed, apologizing when Alexander winced. “Let me fetch you some water.” 

 

“No,” Alexander whined. “Stay here with me...please.”

 

“Alex, you smell like death,” John groaned, smiling. 

 

Alexander whined. “Don’t want to move.” 

 

“What a child,” John complained. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 

 

Alexander let out a soft laugh. “Mcbeerger.” 

 

 

 

 

 

John was able to squirm out of Alexander’s hold to get him bottled water from downstairs, managing to sneak past everyone in the boarding house. Alexander gratefully takes the bottle away from him, downing the drink in one go. He did not realize how thirsty he was until he actually had his first sip. John took the empty bottle and managed to throw and shoot it in the trash bin. 

 

“I just have to write something,” Alexander said, then practically crawled towards his desk. His shaky hand taking of hold of a pen, then he lost himself in his writing. 

 

John took this time to check his messages. 

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**

 

_Did you get home safe?_  
_Did you fuck the guy at the bar?? DETAILS_

 

 **From: Hunkules**

 

 _Sorry if we had to go early last night_  
_Hey, did Ham make it out alright? He’s not replying and he looked a bit off last night_  
_Shit. Did you get laid?_

 

**To: Petit Baguette, Hunkules**

 

_We’re fine. We ended up in Mcdonalds and crashed in Alexander’s house._

 

 

 

He rolled his eyes because of course his friends would want to inquire about his ‘night out’, but he’d have to let them down with a sad story about trying to order Mcdonalds in the middle of the night and then trying not to stumble as they went and crashed into the boarding house in which Alexander stayed. 

 

John stood and grabbed a crumpled sheet of paper on the floor, smoothed it out then reached for the pen Alexander was using before he went back and lied down on the bed; Alexander shrugged then grabbed another pen. He started to doodle some turtles, fishes, and other marine life stuff because really his hand is on autopilot and he’s just letting himself stay in the hazy aftermath of it all.

 

Then he found himself drawing Alexander in all his methodical authorship glory. He sketched his tensed shoulders and jaw clenched in pure concentration. He smiled as he outlined Alexander’s lips, a clean swoop that he somehow imagined to be soft once it was on his own pair. His eyebrows knitted, mimicking Alexander’s expression as he drew it. He’s never been so focused on a drawing before.

 

He then distinctly remembers the paramour he had when he was in high school, the typical gay captain of the football team but was in the closet due to self-hate and homophobia. The rushed and reluctant kisses under the bleachers weren’t the most romantic or memorable and yet he compared the boy and Alexander. 

 

The boy was soft edges and was fearful in every sense of the word, always so uncompromising and never did he ever try to fight for John. The boy was blond and blue eyed, cat whiskers on his face. Alexander was rigid and confident, unafraid to fight for what he believed in; His nose scrunched up when he smiled and he always tied his hair up whenever something required his complete focus or if sauce might get on his hair. 

 

“John.” 

 

John looked up. “Yeah?”

 

“You seem troubled,” Alexander said. 

 

John almost laughed. “If I do then it’s because of you. I was drawing your facial expression and somehow mimicked it.” 

 

“You were drawing me?” Alexander seemed to brighten up. He left his pen and paper and immediately went to John. “Let me see!” 

 

John made a whining noise when he couldn’t grab the paper back quick enough. “It’s not that great.” 

 

“Oh come on, Laurens,” Alexander scowled. “Do more justice with the length of my nose. I do appreciate some generosity.” 

 

John snorted. “If I were to be more generous, you’d have a trunk.” 

 

Alexander squinted. “Imagine if Donald Trump had a trunk, a Trump trunk.”

 

John nodded, considering it. “Donald Trunk.” He rolled his eyes. “Your puns are still bad even when you’re sober.” 

 

“Honestly, John, this drawing is phenomenal,” Alexander said, smiling. “Can I keep it?” 

 

“What?” John frowned, leaning in to take the drawing. “Let me just draw you another one.”

 

Alexander pulled back, shielding the drawing so that John couldn’t get it. “No...I like this. I’ll keep it.” 

 

“Let me at least fix your nose.” 

 

“No. It’s already perfect.” 

 

 

 

 

**Three Months**

 

John tries not to feel like his whole being isn’t being dragged into hell and back when he sees Alexander coming out of Lafayette’s bedroom shirtless and his hair in a wild disarray. He, instead, greets the man with a smile and if Alexander noticed how he was ignoring his texts for a few days then he didn’t say anything.

 

He knows that Alexander and Lafayette still occasionally slept with each other, but not seeing a shirtless Alexander come out of Lafayette’s room helped him bury the truth at the back of his mind. Okay, he denied the whole escapade with every fiber of his being. It wasn’t even worth mentioning or even thinking about. 

 

Mulligan eyed him from his spot on the couch. “Are you okay, John?”

 

John almost snapped. “Of course.”

 

He was also doing a good job with ignoring Lafayette for a solid week. John would always find ways to be ‘busy’ whenever Lafayette invited him to anywhere or even if they had their occasional shit French movies and board games night and he didn’t know it but it was driving the French man up the wall; He confided with Hercules who knew nothing as well.

 

“ _Merde_. What have I done?” Lafayette said, pacing. 

 

Mulligan flipped a page of the magazine he was reading. “What have you not done?” 

 

“This is serious, Mulligan,” Lafayette said. “I have never once fought with John and yet now... _now_.” 

 

“Talk. To. Him.” Lafayette decided that _yes_ he _will_ talk to John and the only feasible problem to that is how the fuck was he going to even start a conversation? He won’t answer in group chat or private chat or anywhere at all. He huffed, frustrated. “I’ll be back.” 

 

Mulligan yelled out a “go get ‘em, tiger!” before he left. And just who did John think he was? Ignoring an important person such as him. They were best friends, weren’t they? They told each other secrets all the time and yet Lafayette has never felt so isolated. 

 

“John fucking Laurens,” he angrily muttered under his breath. Lafayette all but bounded towards John’s apartment, rudely brushing past people and giving them the middle finger whenever they had something to say. 

 

 

 

John was sat on his couch, buried in blankets and his own self-pity. He may or may not have accepted the fact that Alexander Hamilton will only like him on a casual basis and will never come to like him on a more romantic basis. It’s probably his fault for even going to Lafayette’s apartment that one night but then again he might’ve still like Alexander even if they met in a different sort of setting.

 

He tried not to imagine Lafayette and Alexander doing it, dark skin on sun kissed ones, pressed flush as they moved together and _no_ he will not do this to himself. John internally groaned. Why couldn’t he get to Alexander first? It’s such an awful thing. Lafayette was probably more skilled in the bed, one of John’s more negative thoughts.

 

John jumped when his door was slammed open to reveal the man himself, Lafayette. He realized that he should really lock his doors whenever he was avoiding someone. He tries to say something but is immediately cut off by the French man.

 

“John fucking Laurens!” The said man is on the couch, looking at him with wide eyes and a hand on his chest. “You have been avoiding me!” 

 

“I have not.” Absolute fucking bullshit. “I just don’t have the time for you, Laf.” 

 

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “You wound me.” 

 

“Look, Laf,” John said, standing up. He decided that he will not, for the life of him, have this conversation “Not everything is about you.”

 

“You’re making this seem like it’s about me.” There was some hint of a challenge in his voice that just reeled John in.

 

“How egotistical of you.” 

 

“Fucking tell me, John,” Lafayette snapped. “You go and avoid me for days on end and now that I’m confronting you, you tuck your tail in between your legs.” 

 

“Just get out.” _Please_.

 

Lafayette is honestly taken aback by how hostile John sounded, but stood his ground. “John, stop being such a coward.” 

 

“A coward,” John parroted, looking pained. He _was_ a coward, here he was holed up in his apartment because he’s upset that his best friend slept with the guy he just so happened to like. “Perhaps.” 

 

“John,” Lafayette said, nearing his friend. “Talk to me.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” John said, looking up to meet his eyes. “Laf, I swear this is not about you---well kind of.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Lafayette asked. “Please let me fix it.” 

 

“You slept with Alexander,” John said, defeated. 

 

Lafayette stared. “Well...yes.” 

 

“Laf, I like him.” And oh it was there, he has finally admitted it verbally. He sat down on the couch, hands clutching his head. “I like him.”

 

Lafayette kneeled in front of his friend, not knowing what to say. John liked Alexander and he went and slept with him, that shit is eating him up. He felt dirty and tainted, as if he could practically feel sin crawling on his skin. He has never once felt bad about his promiscuity, but he did now. “I’m sorry, John. I should have known--fuck I should have known.” 

 

It all made sense now, Lafayette thought. He was oblivious in a sense wherein he didn’t give meaning to whatever he saw, he turned a blind eye to everything; John’s avoidance of the Lafayette and Hamilton topic, John’s careful and sweet gaze pointed at Alexander, John’s avoidance of other men even though he was single, and John’s eyes sparkling for the first time when he cast a look at Alexander Hamilton the first time they met in Lafayette’s apartment.

 

But he wasn’t oblivious to Alexander’s reciprocation, not at all. In fact, it hindered some of their nightly adventures. It was not his secret to tell, but he will do whatever it takes for it to be known: the feeling is mutual.

 

“It’s not your fault,” John sighed. “It’s my own fault for not telling either one of you.” 

 

“How blind could I possibly be?” Lafayette growled, then let his resolve fade. “You should’ve told me.” 

 

“I’m so sorry,” John said. “I don’t know what to fucking do, Laf. I...I didn’t mean for it to be like this.” 

 

“ _Mon cher_ , you will get through this,” Lafayette said, affectionately patting John’s arm. “You have me now. I will help you.”

 

“I don’t want to risk what I have with him,” John said. “If this is all that I can have then so be it.”

 

Lafayette rolled his eyes. _This dumbass_. “I won’t allow it.” 

 

“Hey,” John said, catching Lafayette’s full attention. “I’m truly sorry, I didn’t mean to project.” 

 

Lafayette waves his hand dismissively. “I’d feel the same if you slept with Herc.” 

 

“Oh that’s go--wait....wait _what?_.” 

 

 

 

**Three and a half months**

 

A person would have thought that telling someone about their little crush would be cathartic because of the old saying 'the truth will set you free' but that is, in John's case, untrue. Lafayette was as subtle as he was oblivious so it takes all of John's willpower to not punch his friend as he was making faces at him while he was cuddling with Alexander. 

 

 

 **To: Petit Baguette**  
You are a whore

 

 

Lafayette looked up from his phone, laughing. 

 

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
Whore-endously charming

 

 

John rolled his eyes, mumbling something cynical under his breath. Alexander looked up at him with a questioning gaze to which John replied with 'just a classmate of my mine who is really stupid' he made sure that Lafayette heard the 'really stupid' part. Alexander nodded, still confused.

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
He doesn't cuddle with me yknow

 

 

John, honest to god, almost threw his phone at Lafayette due to his being flustered. 

 

 

 **To: Petit Baguette**  
Yeah but you fuck him

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
HE fucks ME

 

John thanks every god there is for making him versatile in bed but he will not tell Lafayette that. Alexander mewled beside him and John rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone so his hands could go to Alexander's hair.

"Such a child," he whispered.

Alexander smiled. "Feels nice."

"Such a child," Lafayette said out loud in a mocking tone as he made a show of patting Mulligan’s hair. 

Mulligan gave them a cheshire cat smile. "Feels nice."

John threw his phone at Lafayette which earned a loud laugh from Alexander. Worth it. 

 

 

 **Four Months**

 

“You must be out of your god damn mind,” Alexander said, standing short but proud in front of this poor man named Samuel Seabury. Honestly, John Laurens just wanted to have a peaceful lunch with Alexander, but that obviously isn’t going to happen with the whirlwind of a friend he has. “You can’t seriously think that Donald Trump is a great candidate.”

 

Samuel shrugged. “If he should win, I’d assume your departure.”

 

John would have punched him, but Alexander gave his arm a pat and that was enough for him to restrain himself. “You know he’s against black people, right?” 

 

“So?” 

 

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose, getting a headache from the stupidity of this. _“You’re black.”_

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Samuel said, puffing out his chest. “He’s a great man.” 

 

Alexander looked at John helplessly, practically crying with frustration. “Do you hear the stupidity in him?” 

 

Samuel’s voice boomed. “He’ll make America great again.” 

 

“But--”

 

“I’m having none of this.” And John Laurens knew that you _never_ interrupt Alexander Hamilton in the middle of a heated discussion because that’s like asking ‘oh, can you kill me at an early age?’

 

“Don’t modulate the key then not debate with me,” Alexander snapped. “Why should a stupid white cis-gendered homophobic sexist tyrant receive great power? And for what? To destroy the nation our founding fathers fought for?” 

 

“The founding fathers had slaves,” Samuel said.

 

“That is _not the point_ ,” Alexander sighed. “Really your stupidity amazes me.”

 

“Hamilton, it may have slipped my mind to compliment you on the scar on your arm,” Samuel smirked, eyes glinting. 

 

John was about to ask but stopped himself once he saw how much Alexander visibly tensed, he almost looked murderous. True there was a scar on Alexander’s arm but he never thought to ask and Alexander never thought to explain. “Alexander.” 

 

Alexander grit his teeth. “Are you using that against me?” 

 

“Perhaps.” The next thing John knew was that Alexander lunged at the taller man, landing a hard punch on his nose. John flinched when he heard an audible crack. “Hamilton, what the fuck?” 

 

“Don’t think of me as a damsel,” Alexander said, fiery. “I am stronger now.” 

 

Alexander stormed out and John had no choice but to follow. He could practically see steam on Alexander’s head. “Alexander, what was that about?” 

 

“He was being a prick,” Alexander said, stopping abruptly; he locked John’s eyes with his dangerous and wild gaze. 

 

John frowned. “What if you get caught? Alexander, your scholarship.” 

 

Alexander pointed an accusing finger towards the direction of the place they came from. “He knows something about me that I can’t even bring myself to tell you and he’s using it to blackmail me. It’s not right to manipulate someone like that, John.” 

 

“Alexander--” 

 

“No, I just...” Alexander let out a frustrated sigh, then looked at his feet angrily. “I’m so fucking tired of being used, John.”

 

“Will you be okay?” John asked. 

 

“Of course I will be,” Alexander spat. “I’m always going to be okay and I beg of you not to patronize me.” 

 

“Alexander.” 

 

“John,” Alexander said, making it sound like a challenge. 

 

A sigh. “Alright. Should I leave you alone?”

 

“No, please.” Alexander’s gaze snapped up to meet his, looking scared. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.I’d tell you but I’m not sure if you’ll still look at me the same way if I tell you and I know you might be curious as to what could cause that reaction and I just--I’m not ready. I’m sorry I promise I--”

 

John lightly tugged on Alexander’s hair, smiling softly and comfortingly. Alexander stopped talking and gave him a shaky smile. “It’s fine, Alexander. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

 

Alexander seemed to be completely relieved by this. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” John said. “Hey, let’s go home?” 

 

And he didn’t mean to say it like _that_. Home? What was their home? Did Alexander even understand the concept of what John was referring to? His thoughts were running a million miles an hour as he tried to registered the emotions (or lack thereof) swirling in Alexander’s eyes. Home could mean so many things all at once and for John Laurens it may have been just being in Alexander’s mere presence. He starts to retract his statement an--

 

John tries not to show his shock when Alexander laces their fingers together. “Would it surprise you if I said that I already am home?” 

 

John thought that that was so fucking unfair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 **To: Petit Baguette**  
He might as well just stab me. It’ll hurt less.

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
It’s 2:30AM 

 

 **To: Petit Baguette**  
And you’re awake and he’s so cute when he’s asleep and oh my god when he punched the guy?? HOT. HELP 

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
Seen 2:34AM 

 

 **To: Petit Baguette**  
This is SMS. Did you just literally type that out? Are you kidding?

 

 **From: Petit Baguette**  
Seen 2:37AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a weird ending? BUT WHY? Because it was originally supposed to end in two chapters but I write too long and you guys had positive feedback. I wasn't really expecting anyone to like it since I'm more of a percico writer woops. Anyway, Japan is beautiful.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SooOOOoOOOoooo how are you? Thanks for reading! This is the second to the last chapter!

**Four and a half months**

 

John Laurens did not plan to like Alexander fucking Hamilton, nor did he plan on living a domestic platonic life with him in his apartment that was already starting to be littered by books he knew Alexander, and only Alexander, can own (Greek Economics Vol. II, really?). 

Alexander was on the table, subjecting his laptop under intense scrutiny and the clickity clackity sound his fingers made on the keyboard. He had told John ‘I’m just finishing this for my blog, we’ll go out to eat in a few minutes’ practically three hours ago. Honestly, John didn’t really expect Alexander to be true to his word so he just made the both of them some salads.

Okay, so what? He liked salad. 

John had placed Alexander’s bowl beside his laptop, smiling when he saw Alexander glare at it at first but ultimately forking it down absentmindedly every five minutes or so. He decided to check his phone, a bad choice but whatever. 

 

**TO THE REVOLUTION!!** (leave it to Alexander to name the group chat.) 

 

**Jem’ apple Lafashit** : you wound me with my group chat name and it’s _je m’appelle_

 

**Brapp Brapp** : You named yourself, Lafashit

 

**The fucking sun from the teletubbies** : Jesus. Who named me?? The ‘freckled warrior’ was better. Why??

 

**Jem’ apple Lafashit** : Me and because you _are_ the fucking sun from the teletubbies always smiling and shit

 

**Brapp Brapp** : You just want him in bed. Your libido has no end, even going as far as to remove our young freckled boy’s purity.

 

**Jem’ apple Lafashit** : First of all, _va te faire foutre_. Second of all, freckles MEANS happiness and sunlight rainbows

 

**The fucking sun from the teletubbies changed his name to ‘freckled warrior’**

 

**Jem’ apple Lafashit changed ‘freckled warrior’ to ‘The fucking sun from the teletubbies’**

 

**The fucking sun from the teletubbies:** WHY THE SUN??

 

**Brapp Brapp** : Lafashit wants you to call him ‘daddy’ 

 

**Brapp Brapp** : SHIT. wait

 

**Brapp Brapp** : No

**Brapp Brapp** : Day-dy

**Jem’ apple Lafashit left the group**

 

**The fucking sun from the teletubbies left the group**

 

**Brapp Brapp added ‘Jem’ apple Lafashit’ and ‘The fucking sun from the teletubbies’ in the group**

 

**Alex Hamillionfucksaregiven** : Are you quite done, children? 

 

**Jem’ apple Lafashit:** As long as you stop writing

 

**Alex Hamillionfucksaregiven** : I am not writing

 

**The fucking sun from the teletubbies sent a photo**

 

**Alex Hamillionfucksaregiven** : Pure and utter betrayal

 

John laughed, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. He looked up to see Alexander giving him a mock glare before he returned to typing on his laptop. John shrugged, figured he should do his homework and everything since...well what else was there to do? He’d like to make out with Hamilton, but they’re not exactly in that sort of relationship. He wished they were together, but wishes aren’t that easily granted.

 

Pre-med was still a fucking drag, if he was honest. The fact that his father was totally not funding this makes it a lot harder because he had to keep his grades up, all the while trying to do art commissions every time there is a request. Anyway, his father is another story for another time because right now he just really wanted to understand chemistry. Marie Curie died for this.

 

He opens up his google drive to edit and create some essays and occasional reviewers on his chosen topic (fuck chemistry, honestly). Luckily, just like Alexander, he easily loses himself in his work. He doesn’t know for how long he’s typing, doesn’t bother to check the time. The only time he stopped was when he felt his eyes burn and he wondered how Alexander could possibly do this for hours on end. 

 

2AM 

 

John is about to tell Alexander to go to bed but the man was already fast asleep on his laptop. He gently made his way towards the man, flinching when he heard a creak but glad that it didn’t cause any sort of reaction. John draped a blanket around Alexander’s shoulders, softly kissing the back of his head. He was about to walk away but a word on the laptop screen caught his eye: ‘freckles’. He pursed his lips, he shouldn’t read this but oh, _what the heck_. 

 

**The marks on his face are merely star light freckles and, much like the three wise men who were guided to their saviour, I was led to mine. I could write poetry, endless sonnets and endless verses on his eyes alone. This man deserves more than what my limited vocabulary can offer. There is too much to say, how do I summarize sequels and prequels of emotions I have shoved down in order to save what I have with him. I am completely enamored by this saviour of mine, the saviour who lured me out of the dark trenches of my soul. Joh....;;;.;,dssddf;**

 

And that is exactly what he recited to Lafayette when he called him on his phone while he was in the bathroom. Lafayette was laughing on the other end of the call to which John just groaned to in response. “Come on, Laf. What the heck is this?” 

“He likes you,” Lafayette said. “He _likes_ you.” 

John rolled his eyes. “Or used me as a muse. Ugh, not everything is romantic.” 

“And how many ‘Joh’s are actually out there?” Lafayette deadpanned. “Are you absolutely wrong in the head?”

“Listen, in art you can have anyone as a--” 

“Don’t even finish that sentence, you dense dildo.”

“Really? A dense dildo?” 

“Just confess,” Lafayette pleaded. “Just... _please_.” 

“I might be convinced if you begged on your knees,” John teased. 

“Careful, John Laurens, you are treading dangerous waters.” 

“Maybe,” then a pump of inspiration. “You know what? I will.” 

“Tread dangerous waters? I don’t have a problem with being a rebound but John you should know that I have fetishe--”

“Confess. I will _confess_.” 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day he sees Alexander talking to a woman in a red dress, eyes alight and hopeful. He can see that Alexander was trying to project confidence by the way he tilted his head up and used his hands when he talked. The girl seemed so interested, leaning in to maybe show a little bit of cleavage or was she showing enthusiasm? Who knows. The girl then nodded her head, laughing a bit before she pulled out a pen and paper. 

She scribbled down, what John assumed, was her number. Alexander took the piece of paper, pocketing it and then winking. The girl laughed behind her hand yet again and said something that was maybe a bit teasing. Alexander nodded before they parted. 

“You wanted to meet me?” Alexander said, smiling as he tapped the pocket where he put the piece of paper in.

John nodded, pushing the bowl of yogurt and fruits towards Alexander who merely crinkled his nose in disgust. “You need to eat.” 

Alexander snorted. “And here I thought it was something more important than this healthy hell.”

 

John doesn’t confess that day.

 

 

**Five Months**

 

John waved Lafayette and Mulligan over to their table in the cafeteria. Alexander was jotting down something in his notebook beside him, he didn’t want to bother him because he looked rather...furious. When did he not? Lafayette caught sight of him and smiled, pulling a half-awake Mulligan behind him. It’s 7:30AM and John could be doing much more important things like sleeping, but, sadly, education is important to him. 

“Hey guys,” Hercules said, yawning. “What’s up?” 

“Trying to feed Alexander,” John shrugged. “He’s managed to convince me that my company alone will fulfill him.” 

Lafayette snorted. “If that isn’t the gayest thing.” 

“It’s really not,” John said. “Anyway, go get some food.”

“Want anything?” Hercules asked.

John looked at Alexander then Hercules. “Black coffee and a banana.” 

Hercules nodded. “Gotcha.” 

John, in the midst of sleep clawing its way to the forefront of his consciousness, realized that he quite liked Alexander’s hands. His hands were a bit smaller than John’s, his fingers long and calloused. He wondered what it would feel like to have those fingers trace random patterns on his back, dancing there with it’s rough skin. 

Honestly, his fingers looked so fluid and like they should be playing the piano; They were nimble with every task they were given and, oh, the things they could do if they worked at a languid pace (specifically, setting fire on John’s skin). John shook his head, refusing to get a boner just from the thought of Alexander’s fingers making its way to every single part of his body. He’s just amazed that he can still keep finding things that he liked about Alexander, he was a never ending list of what John wants to have but can’t.

Hercules came back just in time to pull him away to anymore thoughts that could possibly ruin his morning and give him a boner all at the same time. He pushed the banana and coffee towards John who kept the banana and pushed the coffee towards Alexander; The man looked up, then smiled. 

“Thanks, dearest,” Alexander said, then want back to glaring at his notebook. Hercules cocked up a brow as a silent question to which John just shrugged.

Lafayette sat down with a tray of things John wasn’t quite sure of. “The food here is---” he paused, eyes knitting as he stared at something just behind John. “Isn’t that your dream guy at the bar?” 

John turned around, meeting a familiar man’s gaze. “Excuse me for a moment.” He walked towards Remi with a soft smile on his face. “You seem to have the habit of sitting just behind me.” 

“A skilled stalker,” Remi shrugged. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” John replied, sitting down in front of Remi. “How are you?” 

“On a scale of turtle in Finding Nemo to Great Barrier reef?” Remi said, acting like he was deep in thought. “Probably the Great Barrier reef.” 

John chuckled. “I can’t argue with that kind of stress.” 

“Really though,” Remi groaned, face scrunching up. “Why must I be subjected to this kind of torture? My eyebags are _practically_ Gucci.” 

John laughed, startling even himself from the loudness of it. “I never knew someone who used dad jokes at the bar could be funny.” 

“It’s a Schuyler skill,” Remi said, puffing out his chest.

“Oh, sure,” John said, rolling his eyes. “You look like shit though.” 

“You sure know how to charm my pants off,” Remi deadpanned. 

“No like good shit,” John grinned. “Like vegan shit.” 

“I _am_ vegan,” Remi chuckled. 

“What level?” 

“What lev--” Remi rolled his eyes. “Level five vegan, won’t even eat a cow’s shadow.” 

John snorted. “Knew it. How do you survive being a vegan?” 

“Water and a shit ton of oreos,” Remi quipped. 

“Oreos are vegan?”

“Surprisingly.” 

“It’s like I learn new things everyday.” 

“The only ones suffering from my veganism is my immediate family. It took two hours of arguing with my three--three, John, _three_ \--sisters ‘til we finally found a restaurant we could all be satisfied with.” 

“Just eat a god damn salad.” 

“Ew.” 

John clutched his chest in mock hurt. “I just so happen to like salad.” 

“I’ve eaten so much salads that it physically hurts me just to see one,” Remi said, faux gagging. “Noob vegan move.”

“My friend, Alexander, hates them too,” John said fondly. “He absentmindedly eats them when I offer it though, weirdly enough.” 

Remi gave him a teasing smirk. “ _Friend_?”

“Yeah, my fr--” John sighed. “Is it _that_ obvious?” 

“That and the talk my sisters gave me once I mentioned that I hit on a certain ‘John Laurens’,” Remi drawled. 

John groaned, covering his face. “Even them?” 

Remi shrugged. “You could have told me you had a boyf--”

“Do _not_ ,” John said, cutting him off. “He is not my boyfriend, never will be.” 

Remi whistled. “Pining.” 

“I hate myself.” 

Remi reached out to pat John’s shoulder good naturedly. “You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

John looked up to glare. “You’re hitting on me _now_?” 

Remi raised his hands as if to defend himself. “Hey, if it helps, I’m setting my eyes on something different.”

John smirked. “Who’s the lucky person?” 

“Economic growth.” John removed his hair tie and threw it at Remi. “Okay, _hey_ , I deserve nothing but praise.” 

“Whatever, Schuyler.” 

Remi rolled his eyes, then his gaze softened. “Don’t give up on him, yeah?” 

“What?” 

“Well,” Remi trailed off, biting his lower lip. “Let’s just say that your feelings may or may not be returned.” 

“What makes you say that?”

“John, he’s been glaring at me. I’m actually scared of what might happen to me.” Remi started to gather his things. “I’ll catch you later, John Laurens. It’s nice talking to you. Oh, here’s my number--no don’t look at me like that--hit me up if you’ve got any boy trouble or something. I’m jealous of my sisters for being the only ones who can gossip.” 

“Hey, Remi.” The said boy looked up from his things. “Friends?” 

“As if you even needed to ask.” Remi stood up, beaming at him. “See you around.” 

John walked back to his table, Hercules waggling his eyebrows at him. Alexander was still writing but he seemed to be more heavy handed with it as compared to awhile ago. “Sorry about that.” 

“Got a date?” Lafayette asked. 

John shook his head, then shifted when he felt Alexander’s gaze on him. “Nope. He and I are just friends. I got his number though.”

“I am stuck between praising you and also boo-ing you.” Hercules gave him a horizontal thumb, not quite a thumbs up and not quite a thumbs down. “Boooo, you _dog_.” 

“You’re still writing, Alexander?” John asked, amused. 

“I was a bit distracted so it’s taking me some time,” Alexander shrugged. He left it at that.

 

 

 

Later that night, Alexander was sat in front of John while they were at the library. John looked up from his books to see the other man staring. “Yes?”

“You and Remi are just friends?” Alexander asked and he almost seemed unsure of himself. 

John nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Were you jealous, Alexander?” 

“ _No_.” 

John smiled. “You know you’re the only one for me, baby girl.” 

“John, _shut up_.” 

 

 

 

 

**Five and a half months**

 

“We’re done,” Lafayette groaned, lying supine in the middle of his apartment; John had his body haphazardly strewn across the couch; Alexander sat on the floor, back leaning against the couch lost in his reverie; Mulligan had a mug of coffee in one hand while his head was down on the table. “Finals is _done_.” 

“Here, here,”John groaned, followed by a pathetic chorus of ‘here here.’ It was almost laughable how incredibly exhausted they looked. There was one point wherein he had to calm Lafayette down because he got so frustrated with tying his hair that he attempted to go bald by pulling it all out. Alexander did not help the situation, he was just cheering Lafayette on. 

“We should have a small party,” Lafayette said. “Let’s just buy a couple of beers and vodka, then invite the Schuylers.” 

“Parties aren’t allowed in the dorms,” Mulligan said. 

“Okay,” Lafayette drawled. “Then let’s just have an intimate get together.”

Alexander nodded. “Let’s do it.” 

“Yo, Jonathan--”

“Not my name.” 

“--can you text Reemay--” 

“It’s Remi.” 

“--and tell him about it?” 

“When is it, anyway?” John asked, pulling out his phone. 

“Tomo--” 

Alexander cut in. “Saturday.”

“What is with everyone and cutting me off?” Lafayette said exasperatedly. 

 

 

 

The get together was chill or so John thought it was. Remi and Alexander were having a silent debate in the corner; Peggy was talking to Mulligan about sewing velvet cloth; Angelica and Eliza were singing and dancing some sort of dance that John could describe as a bit of renaissance but a bit of dabbing. Alexander caught his eye mid-sentence, then gave him a soft smile. He tried to think of what it meant, but came short. 

Lafayette re-entered the room with a bottle. “Truth or dare time!”

Hercules booed. “Boring!” 

The French man pouted. “It is not _that_ boring. Come on, children, let us sit on the floor.”

John thought that that was a recipe for disaster and it was such a bland thing to do but decides to roll with it anyway. Alexander sits, cross legged, beside him on the floor while the others followed. Alexander leans into him, head rested on his shoulder. “Go easy on me if you get to pick me.”

Alexander snorted. “You wish.”

“Me first.” Lafayette spins the bottle and it immediately lands on Peggy. “Dare.” 

Peggy tapped her chin. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest one in the room.”

“That’s eas--”

“ _Not_ yourself.” 

Lafayette harrumphed before he crawled over to John and kissed his nose, then glared at Peggy. “Are you happy, Margarita?” 

“Quite,” Peggy grinned

John blushed. “Uh, thanks.” 

Lafayette shrugged. “No problem.” 

Peggy spun the bottle and it landed on Remi, who gave a mischievous smirk. Peggy groaned aloud, knowing that it can’t be good. “Rem-Rem, have mercy. Truth.”

“You went to an all girls high school, yes?” Remi asked, smirk growing wider. “What was the naughtiest ‘experiment’ you’ve done.” 

“I have to say,” Alexander said. “That’s not what you expect a brother to ask you.” 

Remi snorted. “Alexander, I do as I please.” 

“We made out,” Peggy said, head dropping in shame. “In a confessional.” 

Angelica whistled. “You _dog_.” 

“Jesus,” John said, laughing a bit. 

Eliza fanned her face, heating up. “Well.” 

John sort of blurs the whole game all together. Remi has been dared to go outside and pole dance; Eliza was made to tell the truth about whether or not she used a band aid on her vagina on the first day she got her period (she did); Angelica had to admit that she once had a flirting moment with Alexander (“ah, memories” “Alex, honestly, shut up); John was dared to drink a shot of sriracha and mayonnaise; Hercules had to sing ‘Go The Distance’ shirtless on the sidewalk; Alexander had to come out with how many men he’s actually slept with which John blatantly ignored. It then came down to it being Lafayette’s turn again. 

“Who was the last person you slept with and when?” Hercules smirked.

“I bet my libido astounds you,” Lafayette teased. He glanced at Alexander, then winked. “A few days ago with Alexander Hamilton.” 

_A few days ago with Alexander Hamilton_. It repeats over and over again in John’s head like a buddhist chant. He feels ice spread over his body, freezing him on the spot. Alexander pulled away, then stared. He doesn’t care. It’s been a long time since John wanted to vomit before. The worst part about this is that he can’t react or get mad or do _anything_ because Alexander wasn’t his.

 

_Alexander wasn’t his._

 

John bolts up, a mixture of both betrayal and anguish cooking in his stomach. He forgets to excuse himself as he trudges away from the group and out the apartment. The cool night air bit his cheeks and it helped him simmer down but only just a mite. He's done. John Laurens is done. To like someone shouldn't be this hard, it shouldn't feel like he wanted to physically claw on his insides just so he could calm himself down. 

He rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated with--himself? Alexander? Lafayette? The world? Who knows. John Laurens wasn't the type to want many things and he's not, even now, really sure what he wanted...

Alexander holding his hand.

Alexander snuggling into him while they're in bed.

Alexander peppering his face with kisses.

Alexander playing with his hair as he talked about what stupid thing Burr has done.

Alexander looking at him as if he was more than a human, as if John has fought a duel for him. 

Alexander calling everything 'theirs' or 'ours'. 

Alexander, _his_ Alexander.

John realizes that that is merely a dream, a dead star--far away and gleaming but nothing is really there. He tries to argue with himself. What of their private touches and the secret smiles Alexander gives him? A mere misinterpretation? A casual and fleeting moment? John fought the tears threatening to fall, his hand found its way to his chest and gripped it tightly--tries to keep it from breaking.

John ignores the glare that came from the lobby guard as he brushed past him in his haste to go to his apartment. He chokes out a sob when he kept failing with using his key, then frustratedly jams it in. Why was he so mad? Alexander wasn't his. He slams the door behind him and crouches in the middle of his apartment, breaking down. Was he loud? He doesn't care. Let them hear, let them know. 

"John."

He froze. He doesn't dare turn around. "Alex."

"Look at me?" Alexander says carefully. 

"I--you shouldn't be here, Alex," John said.

"Like hell I shouldn't," Alexander snorted. "You left so abruptly that I wasn't even able to call out your name."

"Does it matter?" John said quietly, standing up. 

"What?"

"Does it matter?" John snarled, looking at him. He's not sorry for the way Alexander flinched.

"Of course it matters," Alexander said. "I was worried."

"You should go back to Lafayette," John said bitterly. "He's waiting."

"This...this about Lafayette and I?" Alexander said through gritted teeth. “All this time? Lafayette?”

John shot him an icy glare. "So you've noticed."

"It's not my fault he chose to sleep with me," Alexander snapped. "What? Do you think I would have known that it was him you liked all this time? You should have told me then instead of silently pining like a fucking coward or using me as a god damn rebound.”

"Alexander, you still don't get it," John humorlessly laughed. "How dense."

"No you don't get to mock me, John Laurens." Alexander looked ready to breakdown and scream. "If you loved Lafayette so much then---"

"You seriously think I'm like this because of him?" John said, cutting him off. "You--"

"Of course I--"

"Can you just shut up for _once_?" Alexander froze, effectively quieting down. He seemed to have deflated at John's words, the exhaustion suddenly showing through. 

John, for the first time, doesn't care. "Lafayette is a nice man, one of my best friends and I would die for him really. Frankly, I don't give a single fuck if he sleeps with you or anyone because he is not the man I like and it doesn't make sense how fucking oblivious you are. Shit, Alexander. I like you a lot." 

Alexander's eyes grew wide. "You mean--"

"Fuck it," John says, exhausted. "Just get out. I don't care anymore."

"John, please I--" Alexander closes his mouth when John gave him another icy glare. It was enough for him to get the message. Alexander steps outside the door, standing in front of the doorway as if he was contemplating on something before he pulls the door shut in front of him. 

John realized that he just confessed to Alexander Hamilton and that it wasn't as romantic as how he pictured it out to be. He may have wanted it to be so disgustingly romantic that their great grand children would cringe but that wasn't going to happen. He threw himself on the couch, exhausted. He knows he'll have to handle it tomorrow but, for now, he'll sleep. Sleeping is, apparently, easier to say than do. 

He lets what has just happened replay in his head. Lafayette's infuriating betrayal, the heartache that stopped him from breathing, the everlasting walk he had to do to get to his apartment, the way he broke down, and the look Alexander gave him--there was nothing like it, it was such a pitiful look. He realized, a bit too late because he was starting to slip, that Alexander never gave a reply to his confession.

 

He’s glad that there wasn’t any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think? 
> 
> The second to the last chapter, I promise I won't make shit too complicated because...well, it's me. I write fluff. Fluff is my forte, FLUFF IS GOING TO BE WRITTEN ON MY TOMB STONE


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I am not satisfied with the ending but I made as long and fluffy as possible. I am currently working on the semi-mirror fic!

He woke up to a beautiful day, the exact opposite of how he felt, and a lot of messages. He decided that he'll check it out later. He really does not care for it right now, only cares about how broken he feels. The night's events didn't hit him until a minute later, his heart clenched. John went to go and take a shower, he needed one so badly. 

John found himself listening to the stream of water hit the bathroom floor as he scrutinized himself in the mirror. Yeah, what would Alexander ever see in him? John practically picked out pieces of him he hated, particularly just himself in general. He hated his freckles, his lack of intelligence, his there-are-abs-when-you-inhale-hard-enough stomach, and his idiotic hair. He hated himself. 

The tired man sighed, letting himself pull away from his own reflection so he could step under the shower. He let the hot water cascade from his scalp down to his feet, relishing the feeling of being cleansed. His thoughts were Alexander's eyes and he let it be, noting how numb he felt. The shower helped, it made him think of literary symbolisms; water would wash away anything. He needed to do away with last night's fiasco while also, ironically, thinking about Alexander's eyes.

 

He reached out for his shampoo, face scrunching up in pain. Usually, Alexander would sleep over at his place and abuse his hair products in the shower because _John, it smells like bamboos and marmalade_. John realized that his fucking shampoo smelt more like Alexander than it smelled like him. He uses it anyway, tries to think that he’s doing it out of rebellion and not because he wanted to somehow keep something of Alexander close to him.

When he stepped out of the shower, he felt clean; he felt clean but he also felt extremely dead. He told himself that he'd be upset today and okay maybe three more days then jump back to being a bit okay a week later. He'd have to avoid his friends for a while, but that isn't hard when you have different majors. It's not like he couldn't rely on himself or make other friends. 

He picked out his feel good outfit which composed of mainly his turtle shirt that he got from Target, sweatpants, and his TMNT socks. It was already starting to make him feel good, good enough to check his messages but not enough to just face the world.

 

**From: Petit Baguette**  
Di he confesd to u?

**From: Petit Baguette**  
Srry 4 last nyt

**From: Petit Baguette**  
I dodn't actually slep wt him, I jus sad that so he woold confess n u woud confesz

**From: Petit Baguette**  
Imsory pls

**From: Hunkules**  
U alright? U seemed upset

**From: Hunkules**  
Ham ran out after u after arguing with laf in french. Kase twah or some bullsh 

**From: Hunkules**  
Ham looked so upset

**From: Petit Baguette**  
I can't contact Alex

**From: Hunkules**  
Dude, where's Alex? Can't contact

**From: Unknown Number**  
Alex hasn't been texting back all night. -Eliza

 

 

How did Eliza get his number?

No.

Wait.

That was not the focus right now.

Three things came to mind right then and there. First, Lafayette did not betray him; he was an absolute asshole but he did not betray him. Second, Alexander fucking Hamilton liked him back, actually liked him back. Third, he just kicked out a man who liked him back and he might have hurt him to the point of no return.

John felt his blood run cold. Oh god. What had he done? He bolted up, haphazardly wearing his shoes. He didn't care what he looked like, he just needed to see Alexander. Well, he needed to find him first. He reached for the door, yelping when he sees Alexander still standing there in the same position as last night before he closed the door. Had he been there all night?

"Alex," John said, gently cupping his face in his hands. "Alexander."

Alexander looked up to meet his eyes. "John, good evening."

"Good ev--it's morning, Alexander. Have you been here all night?" John asked, leading him inside. 

Alexander's brows knitted, confused. "I guess so. I'm sorry, you told me to leave and I should leave." Those were the words he said and yet he allowed John to sit him on the couch.

"No, Alex," John whispered. "It's fine, we're fine."

Alexander frowned. "Alex?"

John smiled slightly. "Alexander."

"Laf and I...it's not...we're not," Alexander struggled with the words, seemingly defeated. "Laf started it," he finished pathetically.

"I know, I know." John tucked a stray hair behind Alexander's hear. “Lafayette is an asshole but...yeah.”

"I'm sorry if you had to find out like that," Alexander said. "I was picturing something more..."

"Romantic?" John finished. Alexander nodded. "I did too."

Alexander gave him a sad smile. "But that doesn't change the fact that the feeling is mutual...right?"

"Right," John agreed. "Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Alexander shook his head. "You were upset, I understand." He took John's hands and pressed John's palms against his cheeks. "You won't hurt me."

John realized the look in Alexander's eyes--trust. It was pure and utter trust. He felt like he didn't deserve such a thing from Alexander. "I won't. Never."

"When did you realize?" 

"That I liked you?" A hum of agreement. "Your debate on prostitution."

Alexander snorted. "Oh my god."

"And you?"

"One day," Alexander winked, grinning.

"Unfair," John pouted then smirked when he realized he had a plan. "We can still make the confession bit romantic by the way."

"Do tell," Alexander smirked.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close them."

Alexander gave him a dubious look before he followed his instructions. "I trust you."

John led him up and away from the couch, carefully guiding Alexander towards the bed. "Here, lie down on your side." He felt Alexander freeze. "I won't do anything you won't like, I promise you that."

Alexander, without opening his eyes, lied down on his side. John lied down in front of him. "Pretend that last night didn't happen, pretend that you're just about to wake up."

"I don't sleep, John," Alexander said, grinning.

John snorted. "It's hard to make shit romantic with you."

Alexander stopped himself from laughing. "Alright, alright."

"So imagine last night didn't happen," John continued. "Imagine that you're just now waking up and it was a mere dream."

Alexander opened his eyes and John seemed to have lost all his words; Alexander smiled softly, nose scrunching up. "Good morning, my dear Laurens."

"Good morning," John said, hand slithering in Alexander's hair and disappearing. "Good rest?"

"I may have dreamt of something."

"Oh?"

"A realization."

John felt a flutter. "Yeah?"

"John," Alexander said. "I like you. More than I should. More than what might be wise. And I know I can love you, I know that I will."

John could cry now. "I like you too, Alexander. If I could, I would make sure that there is no world that you and I won't happen because this is something I can't imagine not having."

John wasn't sure who leaned in then. Him? Alexander? A meeting of halfway? This was everything he'd imagined their kiss to be. It was ardently slow, a bit methodical, and so full of emotion that John's heart might just implode. Alexander is holding his neck while John slightly tugged on the other man's hair. He briefly wondered if Alexander knew that his neck was his weak spot.

Alexander bit him, a shy bite that almost made John giggle out of fondness. He, instead, moaned softly because shit if John didn't like biting then who was he? He wondered how Alexander could possibly taste like grapes and mint, an atrocious combination to think of but intoxicating once tasted. 

They pulled away, eyes locked and breathing a bit shallow. John briefly recalled how, on the first day of their meeting, Alexander's eyes seemed to be waiting for something to ignite it. Alexander's eyes weren't only ignited but ablaze, a warm flame that John was helplessly drawn into. He would not forget this moment, not even when he was senile. He would sketch this in his mind, hang it on every crevice until it is what he saw unconscious or not.

"Sorry if I have morning breath, I just woke up," Alexander joked.

John snorted. "Way to ruin the moment, Alexander. I swear to god."

"Can't help it, my dear."

John rested his forehead on Alexander's, then smiled. "Alexander."

"Hmm?"

"My Alexander."

 

 

 

**The next morning**

 

John found out that the best part about being in a relationship is what happens the morning after. He got the pleasure of waking up to _his_ Alexander. Sure they’ve slept beside each other before but it’s different now that they were actually a thing. The sunlight seemed to hit him just right, blankets that loosely wrapped itself around a pajama clothed body, and soft snores emitted from a mouth slightly ajar. 

It was a normal sight but it was everything to him. 

_This boy is mine_ , he thought, tucking a stray hair behind Alexander’s ear. _He’s mine._

His chest still hurts, but for the right reason.

 

 

 

**Three days later**

 

John was animatedly talking to both Lafayette and Hercules about how a certain type of sea turtle is not anymore endangered, skillfully enumerating all the great benefits of having that sea turtle in the ecosystem. Lafayette was nodding along, surprisingly interested while Hercules played with Lafayette’s hair. “It’s the most amazing thing to ever happen to me this morning.” 

“What is?” A new voice asked. John looked at Alexander who sat down beside him, he was going to say something, but he noticed how his other friends didn’t even up and greet him. He realized that the two were frozen, eyes almost curious but somehow terrified. What was with them?

 

Oh.

_Oh._

They failed to actually tell their friends that they were dating, they were too hung up on each other to think about anything else. Alexander didn’t quite catch on and felt weirded out, nudging John to say something. “Uh, guys?” 

“So you’re okay now?” Hercules asked slowly. 

“Well...yeah,” Alexander said. 

Lafayette nodded. “Okay.” 

“We’re actually--” 

“Dearest,” Alexander cut in, abruptly standing up with a look of panic. “I forgot about a meeting with Washington. _Shit_.”

John laughed. “You idiot.” 

“Well, I’ve been busy,” Alexander huffed.

“Wait,” John said. “Are we still going to that new coffee shop?” 

Alexander shrugged then leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. “I’ll text you, alright?” 

John nodded. “I’ll see you.” 

“I gotta go--” he started to move. 

“My Alexander, your jacket.”

He gave John a sheepish smile. “Thanks, _sugar_. Okay now I really have to go. See you!”

John looked back at his friends who stared at him in disbelief. “Oh, we’re dating.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Mulligan swore, pulling out his wallet. Lafayette snickered as he gingerly takes Mulligan’s fifty dollar bill. 

 

 

 

**Later that night**

There was a random knock on the door, random because they didn’t really expect anyone. John pulled away from Alexander, untangling their limbs. He trudged over to the door to open it, revealing a teary eyed Lafayette. His eyebrows knit with worry, immediately calling Alexander who rushed to his side.

“I’m so sorry,” Lafayette choked, crying animatedly. It somehow reminded John of one of those anime characters crying.

“Marie,” Alexander said. “What the fuck are you crying about?”

John sniffed. “And did you drink?” 

Lafayette frowned. “The truth or dare thing. I was--I’m just--I’m so sorry.” 

Really John wanted to play with him by acting mad but the way Lafayette looked at him made him feel bad for even thinking about fooling him. He good naturedly patted Lafayette’s hair, smiling. “It’s fine, Laf. It’s all over and done with.” 

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Lafayette sobbed in the most unattractive way possible. “I promise.” 

“I know,” John said, pulling Lafayette in for a hug. “Jesus. Come on, man. You need to let that go.”

“Really,” Alexander chuckled. “We’re okay now.” 

Lafayette sniffled. “Really?” 

“Really,” John confirmed, pushing Lafayette an arm’s length so he could look into his eyes. “We’re okay.” 

Lafayette smiled, then his face crumpled yet again. “Hercules, that bastard, he’s flirting with Eliza.” 

“You’re in love with Herc?” Alexander asked. 

“Is this what being in love feels like?” Lafayette asked. “It _fucking_ sucks. I’d rather be stabbed.” 

“Let me make you some hot drink,” John said, patting Lafayette’s hair. “Baby girl, can you just put on Mean Girls?” 

“Why Mean Girls?” 

“He likes that movie.” 

Lafayette nodded solemnly. “Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, Marquis de La Fayette does like that movie.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “This’ll be a long night.” 

 

 

**The fortnight**

 

Everything has been fairly easy for them since they got together and John really wouldn’t have it any other way, but tough times cannot be avoided. John was not so stupid as to think that their relationship would be smooth sailing, he knew certain things would arise so when he had to be escorted away from Alexander during a little bloody spat he really wasn’t that surprised. He was only surprised because he never saw himself as a bad person---until now.

 

A panic attack. John had caused a panic attack. Why? He doesn’t know. There was a man whining about his bloodied face but John could care less about him because John had to look helplessly from afar as Eliza tried to comfort Alexander. Lafayette is saying something and he doesn’t really understand what, everything was just blurred out to fade in the background. 

 

“I hurt him,” he hears himself mutter.

 

“You didn’t know,” a voice argued. 

 

Did you? Do you?

 

No.

He doesn’t know if that was a conversation or an argument in his head, doesn’t think much of it. He just wants to hold Alexander, but he couldn’t--shouldn’t. He catches Alexander’s eyes and he saw the look of pure terror, he doesn’t understand, he leaves. 

 

 

 

 

Three days later and Alexander comes to him as if he was in an angel’s descent. John almost cries, but he doesn’t. Alexander puts John’s hands on his face and John feels as if there is something that shifted in that moment. He is cupping Alexander’s face, eyes piercing through him; There is no terror, there is trust--love. He doesn’t understand how he knows that it was what it was, he figured that it was just how it worked, it was how _they_ worked. 

Alexander says something, voice like honey and cotton all at the same time. “You won’t.” 

John gets it, he does. He gets it because that’s how they worked, how love worked. “I won’t.” 

Alexander’s eyes flickered towards his scar, then releases a shaky breath. “I need to explain myself.” 

“You don’t have--”

“If not now, then when?” Alexander was small and vulnerable. He vaguely reminded John of the stubborn rose in The Little Prince. “I’m ready.” 

Alexander talks.

John holds him, supplying short responses to allow the man to speak as much as he wanted to.

And it was just them and the incoming sunrise. 

 

**A few weeks**

 

“Alexander.” 

“Yeah.” 

John just smiles, he just wanted to say his name and hear Alexander reply to it. “Nothing. You’re very very cute.” 

“Oh, _shut up_ and just help me choose which fruits are sweet or not bru--just help me choose,” Alexander grunted, frustrated. He has been staring at the same two pineapple for five straight minutes while John rocked back and forth on his feet. 

John laughed, grabbing the pineapple on Alexander’s left hand and putting it in the cart. “There you go, my love.” 

“My hero,” Alexander said sarcastically, going to stand by the cart. “Kiwi, coconut, sour cream....mmm okay. We’re good.” 

 

 

 

 

“What are you even going to make?” John finally asked as they left Kroger. He fumbled with the two grocery bags, carrying them with one on each arm as if they were babies. 

Alexander frowned, took the other bag and then held John’s now free hand. “Fruit salad.” 

“With sour cream?” John said, exasperated. 

“Well...” Alexander shrugged. “It might taste good.” 

“Might?” 

“Hush. I’ll taste it first for safety.” 

“My hero,” John said, mimicking Alexander’s earlier statement. They walked like that towards John’s--mostly ‘their’--apartment, peaceful silence and fingers intertwined. John softly squeezed Alexander’s hand, loving how they fit together as if they were some complicated crossword; John was a four across while Alexander was a four down. When was the last time he was this happy? The day they got together? The day he woke up next to him when they were together? The day Alexander said his name as if it was meant to be said by him? 

Alexander unlocked the door with the spare key John gave him back when they were three months into their friendship; he doesn’t regret giving him that key. If he was told before that he’d be semi-living in with a very energetic and rather enigmatic character, he would have been laughing at that statement but now he was so used to stubbing his toe on economics books that his toes are practically impervious to pain. 

John allows Alexander to bustle around the kitchen to prepare his fruit salad. He melted into the couch, pulling the kool-aid stuffed toy into his chest (“I bought you something!” “What is it, John?” “A kool-aid stuffed toy” “Okay...but why?” “Cause you broke my walls down” “Oh _god_.”). He turns on the TV, leaving it on Steven Universe. 

 

A crash. “I’m okay!”

“Okay!” 

“Hey, you didn’t actually like that blue plate did you?” 

“It was a rare 18th century plate that was passed down from Laurens to Laurens.” 

“Fuck you. We bought that at Target.” 

_We_. 

John snorted. “I’m certain it belonged to my Great grand uncle grandpa.”

A pause. “That’s not even a _thing_.” 

“You never know!” 

Alexander came bounding into the room, eyes sparkling as he held a bowl of gooey white stuff that he was sure looked sexually familiar but he’d rather not say it because Alexander seemed to be happy with his concoction. John didn’t even like pineapples that much (especially on pizza) but he’s not about to say that to his boyfriend who was pushing it towards him with the most expectant look on his face. 

John took the bowl and the spoon, slowly tasting the fruit salad. “Oh, that’s unexpectedly good.” 

Alexander beamed. “Really? I’m so fucking glad.” 

“What happened to you’ll taste it first?” John said, eyebrow cocked. 

“I’d rather take a bullet for you, sugar” Alexander shrugged. 

“Oh, _please_ , I bet I had to duel for you in one of our past lives,” John said, rolling his eyes. 

Alexander rolled his eyes back before he, too, dug into the fruit salad. John watched him eat and noting his greasy hair, dark eyebags, unkempt facial hair, intelligent eyes, and the dot of cream on his nose--and oh my _god_ his heart continued to twist for this man in front of him.

“What?” Alexander said, mouth full of fruit salad.

“Nothing,” John smiled, leaning in to kiss the cream on his nose away. 

He was in love.

 

 

**A month into this endeavor**

 

John blinked, waking up to weight on his chest. Specifically, the weight of his boyfriend who was sitting on top of him with his face practically a hair’s width away from his own face. Alexander had his eye brows knitted together, putting a certain spot under his scrutiny. John then felt a finger on a single spot on his nose. 

“My Alexander, what are you doing?” John asked. 

Alexander flinched, surprised. “I’m trying to-- _ugh, 101_ \--count your freckles.” 

John stared, then rolled his eyes so hard it gave him a headache. “How long have you been doing this?” 

“Long enough, my dearest.”

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” 

“...”

“ _Alexander_.” 

“Yes, but I finished counting the freckles on your arms.” 

“An amazing feat. How many are they?” Amused.

Alexander frowned. “I can’t tell you ‘til I’m sure, dearest.” 

“When will you be sure, my Alexander?” 

“After I recount them. Can you be quiet for a moment? I’m going to lose count. I really adore you by the way.” Alexander placed his finger on another spot, gaze switching there.

John hummed in response, taking that time to just stare at Alexander’s face. Somehow, he still finds Alexander so god damn attractive that it just physically hurts him. John’s hands skim towards Alexander’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles on what little exposed skin there was. He tried not to laugh at how serious Alexander actually was with counting his freckles. Is this what his laptop and notebooks felt like when they were placed under his gaze? 

 

He didn’t want to complain about this extra attention he’s getting because Alexander has always been working lately and can’t seem to just rest and cuddle with him. He takes what he can really. Besides, they were both busy. Political science was no joke but so is medicine. They’re schedules worked because they were both so busy, but they worked beside each other anyway so it doesn’t really feel like an errand. 

“Alexander.” 

“John.”

“My Alexander,” he sang.

Alexander mimicked him. “My dearest.” 

“I love you.” 

And Alexander just pulls away, slackjawed. “You.... _you._ ” 

“Me,” John snickered. 

“I’m--you-- _ugh_ ,” Alexander groaned. “You made me lose count.”

 

 

**A few months**

 

“We need a routine,” Alexander said, out of the blue. 

John looked up from his book for a moment before focusing on it. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Alexander agreed. “But I need to know what kind of routine.” 

“I love you, baby girl,” John said, eyebrows knitting together. What the fuck was the use of birth control other than the fact that it controls birth? “But I really want to pass my pre-med and we both know I can’t be both serious and sappy at the same time.” 

Alexander pouted. “But we gotta.” 

“Surprise me.” 

 

 

 

And that’s how he found a sunflower and an arbutus on his desk with a note beside it. He was exhausted and he really couldn’t be bothered to do anything but this was the one thing that made him forget how tired he was. He smiled briefly, noting that the culprit was in his Political Governance class and won’t be back for three hours. He picked up the note, blushing at what he read. 

 

 

_**“To my starlight freckle, the sun spot of my life, I love only thee”** _

__

_**\- Your Dearest, Alexander** _

 

 

**To: My Alexander**   
I love them

 

**From: My Alexander**  
Only the best for you

 

**To: My Alexander**  
What are they for? A congratulations for not dying while studying?

 

**From: My Alexander**  
It’s the routine. I’ll give you flowers and a sweet lil’ note beside it.

 

**To: My Alexander**  
Don’t you mean ‘sappy’?

 

**From: My Alexander**  
You jest but I know you blushed

 

**To: My Alexander**  
I have deniability 

 

**From: My Alexander**  
Oh how you wound me

 

**To: My Alexander**  
Thank you, Alexander. Really. I love youuuu

 

**From: My Alexander**  
:-(

 

**To: My Alexander**  
What?  
Oh.  
Jesus.   
You little shit.  
Thank you, my Alexander. I love you so fucking much. 

 

**From: My Alexander**  
:D 

 

 

 

**A year**

 

“Alexander, it’s the middle of the night,” John groaned into the phone, shiftling on his side so he doesn’t have to hold it. 

Alexander sighed. “I know.” 

“Is something wrong?” John asked, eyes closing. 

“I just missed your voice,” Alexander admitted, sounding rather childish and needy. “I just want to hear you. I can’t sleep without you.” 

John snorted. “You realize we’re apart because of you?” 

“It was a mutual decision!” Alexander exclaimed, making John flinch. “Sorry. Anyway, I can’t study or memorize shit when you’re beside me.” 

“Your fault,” John said. “How long has it been since we separated?” 

“Don’t say ‘separated’ oh my god,” Alexander groaned. “Two days. I need you.” 

“And we both need jobs in the future so I ain’t going to submit myself to your whining,” John said. “Besides, my bed is comfy.” 

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Alexander asked

John hummed. “Of course, my Alexander.”

 

They came to a mutual decision that neither of them will be together up until their finals week is over because being together while studying is nothing but a distraction. John would continuously stare at Alexander’s hands or just his face in general; Alexander would count and recount John’s freckles and sometimes twine their fingers together. John is left handed (soon to be ambidextrous) so that was a bit of a problem. They opted to be apart and also locking their phones in their respective drawers, only ever contacting each other at exactly 5PM. 

 

It was ridiculous because it’s only been a few days and yet he can’t seem to just forget Alexander for a while just up until he can memorize all the steps performed when drawing blood from a patient. ‘Find the nerve and stab’ isn’t exactly the proper technique. He dare say that Alexander being beside him made him study better because at least then he wouldn’t have to look forward to 5PM just to settle his nerves.

 

“I miss you too, you know.” John said. 

 

Alexander only snored in response. 

 

Typical.

 

 

 

**A year and a few months**

It was a beautiful Sunday morning and John Laurens was snuggling into Alexander as they both leaned against the tree trunk. They decided to go for a walk in the park then settled for cuddling in front of the lake, as cliche as it sounds. The weather was perfect and it took every ounce of persuasive power that John had to convince Alexander to just come with him. 

“What are you going to do during the break?” John asked, a question boiling in his stomach. 

Alexander hummed, thinking. “Maybe I’ll get a job. I can’t put a ring on it if I’m poor as hell.” Usually marriage jokes would make John laugh, but not really today. “Dearest, is something wrong?” 

“I was just thinking,” John trailed off. “I’m going back home.” 

A nod. “Yes you will.” 

“Would you like to take time off for me?” A gulp. “So you could meet my family.” 

He felt Alexander tense. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I am,” John said, hesitant. “I mean my dad’s an asshole and my younger siblings have been brainwashed by his stupidity but Martha is cool with you and she’s the only one who knows and my mom--” 

“John, my dearest, love of my life and all that, I’m excited to see your family,” Alexander grinned, running his hand through John’s hair. “Well I can’t promise that I won’t sass your father.” 

John snorted. “I don’t doubt that, Alexander.” 

“Is he a--”

“Yes, Alexander, he’s a republican.” 

“Let’s fucking do this, John.” 

 

 

 

 

 

“I hate it here,” Alexander said. 

John snorted. “We’ve _just_ landed.” 

“ _And_ I’m already sweating,” Alexander whined, tangling their fingers together despite the fact that they are, in fact, sort of sweating. John knew what he was doing, Alexander was trying to distract him from the evident doom they were about to face which is introducing his boyfriend to a homophobic man which he identifies as his father. 

“There’s a fair in town,” John said. “Would you want to go there?” 

Alexander shrugged. “Is there a ferris wheel?” 

“Yes.” John realized that he liked hearing the clicking of his luggage wheels on the airport tiles. Where was Martha, anyway? She was supposed to be around there, according to her paranoid texts. 

“And will I get to kiss you on that ferris wheel?” 

A snort. “Would you believe that that is already a given fact along with me killing your cholesterol as I feed you a shit ton of fried food.”

“Is sex als--” 

“Jack!” A voice called out followed by a flurry of lavenders and blues. It took Alexander a moment to realize that there was a girl on John, something he never thought he’d see in this life of his. “I missed you!” 

“Martha,” John said, a blinding grin. “Baby gi--” Alexander gave him a look. “My favorite sister, how are you?” 

The girl, Martha, was set down. “I’m good, you?”

“Gay,” John shrugged. “Oh, by the way, this man is my boyfriend. His name is Alexander Hamilton.” 

Martha stared at Alexander as if it just then occurred to her that there was another man with her brother. She eyed him up and down, then nodded. “He drools in his sleep.” 

“Oh I am quite aware,” Alexander smirked, elbowing John’s side. John pouted. “But yeah I guess I’m also aware of his finer qualities.” 

Martha rolled her eyes. “Disgusting. You guys suit each other.” 

“Thanks,” John said, rolling his eyes. “How’s the kids?” 

“Trying to keep them liberal minded and independent,” Martha said, leading the way to her car. “They’re soon-to-be mini feminists.” 

John laughed. “Of course they are. Mom?” 

“Strong,” Marthe replied, eyes flashing upward trying to think. “She misses you a lot and she brings you up a lot, tries to keep you alive.” 

“And dad?” 

Martha groaned. “Shit, Jack. You really need to just punch the daylights out of him--” he worriedly looks over to Alexander who was merely glaring at a guy who had a Trump shirt. “--he thinks he’s making us happy.” 

“Isn’t he?” 

She looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? _No_. This is the first time you’ve come home in _months_ and you think he’s making us happy? Oh, here’s my car”

“Sweet,” John whistled, eyeing the Jeep. “I’d have thought you would go for a porsche.” 

Martha scrunched up her nose. “It’s too small. I can’t breathe in there.” 

Alexander put their luggage in the car, winking at John who was staring at his arms. “Like what you see, my dear?” 

John stares at Alexander’s arms with intense focus, then squints. “I can’t see anything, baby girl.” 

“I am off--”

“So _he_ is your baby girl now?” Martha asked, crossing her arms. 

John blushed profusely. “Um..I..”

“It’s fine,” Martha said, waving a hand dismissively. “But if I hear you use that sexually or, so help me, John Laurens, I will burn you.”

Alexander snorted. “Don’t worry, he uses ‘my Alexander’ more.” 

“Let’s just--” Martha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s just go home.” 

 

Home. 

 

It didn’t feel right for John to call _this_ home. It may have taken him a few years to realize that home isn’t here in South Carolina, never has been in South Carolina. Home is fingers and legs tangled together in a flurry of after sex glow, home is falling asleep to the typing sounds on the keyboard, home is soothing words--home is Alexander Hamilton, the man he was sure he loved more than himself, more than anyone.

 

Alexander was looking out the window with some wonderment, eyes darting around to take everything in. John takes his hand; Alexander looks back at him, smiling, then squeezes his hand, leaning into John but still staring out the window. They will be fine.

 

 

 

They are not fine. 

 

Henry Laurens and Eleanor Laurens were sat in front of them, children being rushed up to their rooms by Martha. _But Jacky is home_ one of them whined, but the stern gaze of their father silenced them. Suddenly, John was eighteen again and he was going to come out but this time he had a comforting hand on his knee and the smell of mint and coffee to ground him.

 

“Mom,” John said. “Henry.” 

 

Eleanor smiled softly. “I’m happy you’re here. We’ve missed you.” And there was an ‘except you father’ at the end of that line but it was already a given fact. 

 

“I’ve missed you too, mom,” John said, slightly comforted. “I’d like you to meet someone.” Alexander sat tall and confident under Henry’s scrutiny which made John so goddamn proud of him. “This is Alexander Hamilton, my boyfriend.” 

 

“Boyfriend,” Henry repeated, his voice venomous voice a contrast to John’s sweet voice.

 

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled. “I’m Eleanor, you can call me that, and I’m so glad to finally meet you. Jacky has never brought home anyone--” a glare of discipline then directed to Henry. “--because of certain situations I did not account for.” Henry bit the inside of his cheek. 

 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eleanor,” Alexander smiled. “I’ve heard good things about you.” 

 

Eleanor then looked at John a bit before making eye contact with Alexander. “He drools in his sleep.” 

 

John groaned, leaning back. “God. What is with that?”

 

“Yes he does,” Alexander chuckled. “He also likes to buy the fourth bottle of water from the back in the convenience store fridge because it’s--”

 

“Not too cold and not too warm,” Eleanor and Alexander said together. She grinned. “He got that from me.” 

 

Alexander smiled back, then smirked. “Ma’am, if you want to proceed with the shovel talk then go on ahead.” 

 

“That’s not my job,” Eleanor said, waving her hand dismissively. “Just please make sure to take care of my baby--” John groaned. “--and I’ll give you my number in case you need anything. I ask you to not hurt him.” 

 

“I won’t.” Alexander looked at John, unaware how loving his gaze is. Eleanor felt her heart warm. “I promise.” 

 

 

He let John go to their room first before he fetched himself a glass of water like wow he was so nervous, he could not even hold it in. He was about to go up but he was stopped in his tracks. True enough, it wasn’t Eleanor who gave him the shovel talk, it was Martha. The girl could really stare you down even if she was shorter.

Alexander lied down beside John who was reading a book by Haruki Murakami. “Did you know that your sister can really give a mean shovel talk?” 

“Oh?” Amused.

“Yeah.” 

“Hey, do you want to have sex?” John asked. “There’s this really sexual scene here in this book and I’m kind of feeling it.” 

“I didn’t bring _materials_ with me,” Alexander said, eyebrows scrunching together. 

“Materials,” John snorted. “You’re always packed and ready, what the hell?” 

“Oh, _okay_. Why don’t I just have sex with my boyfriend in his homophobic father’s house?” Alexander said sarcastically. “My priority isn’t impressing his mother. _Okay_.” 

“Let’s just do it dry then.” 

Alexander whipped up. “You mean...?” 

John was always the gentle one, soft caresses and loud praises; he rarely topped because he was still afraid of how fragile Alexander was and Alexander waited until John was ready. He wasn’t that desperate to force John into being a little bit more forceful with Alexander because what if he did break? John would probably never touch him again. 

“Yes,” John closed the book, putting it on the bedside table. He straddled Alexander, leaning down so his lips brushed the boy’s ear. “I’ll even let you bottom.” 

Alexander’s heart leaped. He flipped them both so that he was pinning down John on the bed. “Do what you want to me, _sugar_.” 

Oh _fuck_ what that nickname did to John.

 

**Can’t think of a timestamp**

 

John is exhausted. 

 

He loves being a doctor, loves seeing how people just automatically trust him. It’s his first month as a fully certified doctor and he’s pretty proud of how he’s spending his time, trying to help people and all but it also took a toll on his own health as well as his relationship with his own boyfriend. 

Alexander was also busy and immensely patient with John’s just as busy schedule. They still managed to eat breakfast together but they deemed it lucky if they ate dinner together and even luckier if they slept beside each other at the same time. If their time together was lessened, then that meant that they were drifting apart. And well that’s what it meant to John so it’s not his fault that he’s feeling slightly disheartened. 

He’s stressed. 

 

He’s tired.

 

He’s exhausted. 

 

He’s awake. 

 

He’s hungry. 

 

He’s slightly emotionally unstable. 

 

He’s in need of a hug.

So when he enters their shared apartment and Alexander is laughing on the phone, he cries really loudly like a child who had his sweet taken away from him. He probably shouldn’t cry and he probably should just really get something to eat or drink or just _something_ , but instead he lets Alexander fumble with his phone for a few seconds before he hurriedly runs to his John. 

“Dearest, are you okay?” Alexander asked, eyes full of concern. He let’s out a soft squeak when John pulls him into a hug, face buried in his shoulder. “Come on, talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to break up with you like I know we’re drifting apart and...,” John sobbed, voice muffled by Alexander’s shoulder. “And I missed you and Alexander, I lo-o-o-o-ve you.” 

And Alexander, the angel that he is, manages not to laugh because this was his boyfriend having the cutest possible breakdown. “John, we’re not breaking up.” 

“We haven’t talked in weeks and what if you suddenly find someone who has time?” John sniffled. “Oh my god, I’m going to kill them but you deserve to be happy.” 

“John, my starlight freckle, I’m just as busy as you and truly it’s not like I’m not happy with you,” Alexander cooed. “We’re both busy doing what we love and I understand that.” 

“We haven’t had sex in weeks,” John said, guilty. 

“Oh because I’m dating you purely for the sex,” Alexander said sarcastically. “Come on, dearest, I’m not that low. Sex is just an added bonus.” 

John, all red in the eyes and sniffling, lifted his head and avoided Alexander’s gaze. “I think I need to eat something.” 

Alexander laughed, hard. “So that’s why.” 

“Yeah, just hungry.” 

“Hey, before we eat,” Alexander said, cupping John’s cheek. “We’re both busy and that’s okay, we can always make time for each other and that’s just how our dynamic works ever since college so it’s nothing new. As for the breaking up and finding someone new, I also have the same insecurities. I’m also afraid that you’ll find some pretty blond doctor and leave---”

 

“I’d never!” 

“I know,” Alexander smiled, thumb stroking his cheek gently. “I know. I wouldn’t do that to you either because I love you. I love _you_ , my dearest John Laurens. Also, if you ever feel like we’re drifting apart or something you just have to approach me and talk to me. We’ll talk it out and we won’t be one of those dumb couples. Okay?” 

“Okay,” John smiled, smile growing wider when Alexander tiptoed to kiss his nose. 

 

**Somewhere in the future**

 

 

 

Alexander frowned as he sat on their couch, shirtless, but not for the right reason. He slightly glared at the sunflowers and arbutuses in the vase. How come they don’t have to sit on the couch for a check-up? John was doing a check up on him and he doesn’t understand why this had to happen because he’s perfectly fine and healthy. He just feels like John--Dr. John Laurens, MD-- wants to show off. He was a god damn lawyer and lawyers do _not_ have souls, therefore, he doesn’t get sick. It is a proven fact.

“Stop being such a baby, my Alexander,” John says, knowing that the pet name will soften him up.

Alexander deflated, sighing dejectedly. “Yes, sir.” 

John cocked up a brow. “Kinky.” 

“Save it for later?” Alexander smirked.

“Save it for later,” John hummed. He kneeled in front of Alexander, plugging in the earpieces of his stethoscope. Alexander looked at him intently, a smile making it’s way to his lips. “Deep breaths for me.” 

Alexander shivers under the chestpiece. “ _Shit_.” 

“Sorry.” John began to slide the chest piece from point to point. “There doesn’t seem to be an--” 

Then he hears it exactly for what it was, Alexander’s fast paced heartbeat. He started to think of what could be wrong since it was too fast for any sort of normality and he was kind of panicking up until he realized that Alexander was still smiling at him. _He was looking at him_. He blushed, unable to pull away. This was Alexander’s heart beat thrumming on his ears.

“You heartbeat is fast,” John said, blushing even harder. 

Alexander shrugged. “It’s you.” 

“It’s been years, Alexander,” John said, trying to shake away the heat crawling up his skin. “I--you--” 

True it has been years and they were still together, living in a slightly bigger apartment than the one that they used to live in. They were happy with each other, content. John loved Alexander with every fiber of his being, loved him so much that his soul rattled with purpose. He never considered being this happy in his life, always accepted that he’ll just attain some kind of mediocrity. 

He remembered the years of staying hidden in the shadows of conformation and societal views. He remembered his own disownment and the fact that he had to struggle to get to where he was. He remembered meeting Alexander, sparking a certain kind of flame he saw in the darkness and, like a moth, he followed. This was his now, Alexander and his newly found life. 

“I love you,” Alexander said, laughing a bit. “If it wasn’t obvious enough.” 

John takes a better look at Alexander’s face, aged and tired but still maintaining a youthful glow. He grazes Alexander’s cheek with his thumb and Alexander, as a response, kissed his hand; the familiarity made his heart flutter. He wasn’t any different. 

“I love you too, my Alexander,” John grinned, leaning in to capture his lips. It was slow, they had all the time in the world so why would they try to rush it. This man is the only man he’s spending his eternity with, this life and the next. Alexander tasted of melons and white chocolates and he wondered how he could just do that, taste nice. He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against the other man’s. “You make me so happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The semi-mirror fic is up [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8565340/chapters/19635787%22)
> 
> **  
>  Warning: **
> 
> \- It's only a semi-mirror because Alexander's character is so much more complicated then I made it out to be. FUCK.  
> \- It's a bit slow build...well for me   
> \- It will also be updated slowly because it's finals week and I'm only adding as much as I can

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a mirror fic? Anyone care for that?


End file.
